Connections: An OASIS Story
by umikazesora99
Summary: In 2044 the world is an ugly place with the only escape being a VR world, the OASIS. But how did it become this way? What events lead to the sudden shift in the social and geological landscape of the world? One 46 year old man, Tom Torres, a teacher in the OASIS simply wants to feel young again. But what happens when real life and a crazy Easter Egg hunt ask for more of him?
1. Chapter 1

Connections

I was born in 1998, so to pretty much everyone in the OASIS I'm a living late-forty fossil. And well, I don't blame them. I do have a few white hairs here and there. A few wrinkles perhaps. Not to mention I've lived through a lot. The Post-9/11 Paranoia, the Housing Bubble Burst, the Politicization of the 2010's, the Automation of the Workforce, the Korean Fallout, the Oil Droughts. And I was present in practically each and every event. That doesn't mean there weren't good things. I got to witness the birth of the Information Age, the sudden resurgence of anime and cartoons in popular media. The adoption of video games as mainstream. I had a pet dog too. Named him Rocky. And everyone's personal favorite, Halliday's brainchild. The OASIS.

I heard about it when it first came out. I was a Pizza Delivery driver at the time. If you don't know what that is, I don't blame you. Back before drones had pizza and everything else delivered to you, they hired people to drive it to you. All you had to do was pay a little extra. They even had things like delivery apps where you just hired a stranger to go to a restaurant, buy you the food, and get to your home, work or wherever you were. That was back in the 2010's.

Anyways, I had the job as a way to save up for college. I took a few years off after high school to work with my dad in construction. Yeah, I know. I did manual labor. My grades weren't exactly the best so my plan was to pay for community college then transfer to a four-year. I had an agreement with him. Work for him when I wasn't delivering. Simple. I got a bit crazy with the money I earned and bought my first OASIS starter kit the moment it went into market. I was excited for the thing. I saw demos on YouTube, other eCelebs talking about it. I wanted it. No, I needed it. And boom, I had it a few days after it went live. I had studied the whole manual, practically memorized it. I had looked at every detail of each carefully sculptured piece. The haptic gloves, giving me the ability to hold and feel things in the OASIS. The headset that gave me eyes and ears better than my own. Once I was in, it was hard to get me out. I never got out of it unless I was in college, at work, doing a favor for my parents, playing with Rocky, or lending my hard earned pizza cash to a younger sister who thinks money just comes to you because everyone else in the household works.

It set me back a bit. Mostly in time. Luckily, I was able to get into college. So long heavy lifting, hazardous materials and insomnia. Hello homework, student stress and insomnia. Wait, how did insomnia follow me to college? Oh yeah...OASIS side-effects. I really was sucked in almost permanently. Good thing my mom had me doing so many errands all the time or else I'd be full addicted. My dad? He was always working. I didn't see him until night time. In a way, some things never change.

I never really knew what's going on in my dad's mind sometimes. While everyone is losing their marbles in the OASIS, me and my dad were doing what we always did: argue with each other while we make a house. We had a new agreement: work with him in my freetime. Actually, no. The rest of my freetime outside of the OASIS is pretty much dominated by him. I was pretty much dogging him all the time. Of course, he ended up being the last member of my old family. I was alone after that. My mom died of heart disease in 2031. In 2044 my sister was said to have committed suicide along with her boyfriend. Not gonna lie, i kinda miss those two 'borrowing' money from me. My dad? Well, I'll explain later. And Rocky? Well he was a dog. He went like any good dog should go. Old Yeller style.

Now, I'm in Mexico. Living in a Podunk called Coacuyul, just a few miles from Tlapehuala, Guerrero. You wanna know how I went from living in the stacks to that speck of dust? I'll tell ya...

Winter was unusually warm this year. I remembered when I had to put on about three layers to keep my nuts from freezing over and shriveling like a raisin. Now, just jeans and a good flannel shirt was good enough. Hell my dad even decided we should camp out. Get up early, get to work and finish in time. We had this crazy job for a few months now to keep the stacks we lived in from tipping over like dominoes. It was simple really. We got the idea from a few buildings in major cities. Just put up bridges. Adds stability at the top, and shortens the distance when climbing between stacks. You know, in case people wanna talk IRL.

The stacks are essentially these wicked high structures made out of trailer homes. I know, stupid right? Why in the hell would we risk our asses living in Jenga-inspired deathtraps. We'll apparently because no one else could build houses. You'd think that if Mexicans stopped coming to the US, the rest of the people who were poor or needed work would line up at the Home Depot and build the homes we desperately need. But nope. We're all got welfare and food stamps and too busy in the OASIS to bother learning how to make a house, even though they have DIY tutorials online for that shit.

So we decided to connect the houses using bridges. It was just these wooden ones made using 2x8s. Surprisingly not all jobs were lost. They're just endangered species. We still need restaurants, we still need farmers. We still need fishermen and ranchers. And we still need foresters, miners and masons. And they pay a lot too. So we just ordered wood online, got some pulleys and a cross bar, and got the beams across. We had to get a safety system in place while working. We wore harnesses on our tool belts that way in case we slipped, we'd just pull the other guy up. My dad had one side of the bridge, and I had the other.

He used to be pretty fast. Hell, as a kid he was always saying "Apurate güey!" since I was a nervous kid. But now he's pretty much ancient. How much you ask? He was born in 1967. He's been around since the moon landing. He's 80 years of age! They call him Old Benny. Since you know, he's old, and his full name is Benito Avelardo Torres. Me? He named me Tomas Diego Torres. Or just Tom Torres. And before you ask, no it's not because it sounds like a superhero's secret identity like Miles Morales or Wade Wilson. Although I like the idea a lot. Turns out it's because of my grandpa. I got to meet the guy before he kicked the bucket. I don't know if he was nice to be because I was his grandson, or because he didn't see me like a failure like my dad. Maybe a bit of both. But he was a cool old man. Took me horseback riding when he could. Oh, and this was when I was a kid, like 8 years old. I was visiting for a month or two. And if you haven't figured it out yet, my dad is Mexican. Me? American but with Mexican products. I'm from Los Angeles. My dad crossed over in the 80s. There, happy?

So we got up at about 5am and kicked off the last of the work. Well, at least for me. My dad could still handle this pretty well on his own. The real issue was getting the material up there. So we put on the last of the needed 2x8s and had them up by the 2 side. They would be flushed with the base of the two platforms between stacks at the 8th level. Once there, they were suspended as we bolted them together. It's easy on paper but imagine trying to thread a needle while drifting in a Subaru. Wait, nevermind, you won't get that. Imagine trying to beat Pac-Man to the highest possible score on one quarter. That's how hard it is. So basically it was two geezers arguing about how to put a piece of wood into a piece of metal.

Once the basic skeleton was finished, we sat down by the edge of the base. We had with us a small electric griddle and some powdered eggs. The residents let us have some soy milk and I brought with me some corn flakes. They were a bit pricey but it was worth the expense. But then again, it's not much. I kept on remembering the mornings when the family was whole. Mom would get up early, and she'd have lunch ready for everyone. Mine would be bean and cheese sandwiches with some fruit and a juice can. Dad would put on the news to check on the weather and the latest traffic report. You know, back when the weather wasn't crazy and traffic was legal. My sister would complain about getting up late and she'd take forever to get ready. I would've already eaten my bowl of corn flakes with a few banana slices and some raisins tossed in for flavor. Once done, I got on my bike and rode to school. It wasn't long until I was really woken up by a gunshot in the distance.

I put my hand into my pocket and reached for something, looking around for the source. But it was drowned out. The old man sighed, looking down at some eggs made with water and powder. "We really fucked it up now…"

I knew what he meant by that. Global warming, a shitty government run by lunatics, and of course, guns everywhere. Even I had one. It was one I've had for a long time. He saw my hand sneak into my jacket.

"Don't tell me you have a gun too."

I didn't want to lie to him, but at the same time I didn't want to make him worry. He was pretty much anti-gun for a while, so it's a bit ironic that I had one. Then again it's also ironic that the one guy that doesn't play the OASIS has a son who pretty much profits off of it.

"Okay, I won't tell you I have a gun."

Of course, he'd know I would try to be a smartass. So he went for a different question. "What's in your pocket?"

I just had to admit it. So instead of saying anything, I just showed him my M9. Yep, an M9. The most basic weapon in history.

"Where did you get that?"

"US Army."

"You had that since you got out?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God. Why?"

"Uh, have you heard what just happened, right?"

"Yeah, and knowing you, I don't trust you with it."

"Fine. But you do know if I give you a gun, dispensed in my name, you won't be able to use it and you'll be breaking the law, right?"

"Look, forget the law here. I'm not keeping guns in my house!"

"Technically we live in separate houses pap. I mean, yours is bigger but-"

"That's beyond the point, Tomas!"

Okay, I'm gonna spare you the whole argument. I mean, you don't want to see an 80-something argue with a 40-something. It get's kinda boring after a while. After this point, I just let my dad ramble on. He usually talks about how it's better if people just went back to punching each other in a field. How we've lost our way and things were better back in the day. Old man ramblings after a while. It's one thing to say it once in a while. I know I do it. Only difference is I know when to shut up. This guy could become a master filibuster if he tried.

It was relatively short though. Fortunately I was able to get him to shut up by switching over to a different topic. So I decided to go with recent news. "You know, I heard FIFA is gonna fold soon."

He choked on some rehydrated eggs with that piece of news. "What?"

"Yeah. They might not do the World Cup anymore."

"Why not?"

"I dunno something about a drop in viewership or something…" Actually, that was happening in every sport. NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, they were disbanding left and right. The only major sports organization that was still active at this point was the IOC, the International Olympic Committee.

That might not of been the best thing to tell him. I mean, the guy's a huge fan of soccer. Even I was crushed when I heard that and I'm only a casual fan. That's the one time we sit down on the couch, grab some cold ones and watch two teams running around the field trying to get a ball into a netted box.

"Well, here's praying that the Liga survives."

"Hey, at least we won the last one."

"That's right...Didn't think I'd ever see Mexico hold it up."

"Me neither…"

It wasn't long until we were done with breakfast. We packed up our stuff and were ready to get back to work. I felt pretty ready to go all day. That is if I had all day.

"Tomas, shouldn't you get ready to go home?"

"Why? It's 8 o'clock, right?" I pointed at the clock behind the window of one of the homes. 8:05 is what it said.

"Actually it's 8:25. Look. That clock is broken." He then popped out an old smartphone. A Samsung I think. He then showed that the time was actually 8:25. It also showed the weather for the next three days so that was proof it was connected to the internet.

"Wait a minute, pap. Are you telling me it's 8:25?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Damn it! I'm late for school!" I dropped the tools into the safety box and got ready to rappel down the stacks. "Hate to ditch ya like this old man but I really gotta go!"

"Yeah yeah...go home to your...OASIS whatcha-call-it."

"You're the best!"

In a way, I gotta be thankful for him. I mean, he didn't have to raise me. I knew plenty of people who grew up fatherless. Hell, I even knew people who would rather be fatherless. But I like him, at least when he wasn't all up in my grill. And well, I just wanna return the favor.

As soon as I hit the ground, I ran for the truck we had locked up in the garage. Right inside another safebox, was what I liked to call my personal getaway vehicle. I didn't exactly know what to call it. I just had an old snowboard which I modified to have bicycle tires and an electric motor. It was pretty much a motorized, all terrain skateboard. I guess I'll just call it a motorskate.

I used a handle to change the speed and brake. So once I had it going, it was off to the other side. I had memorized the layout of the whole place. Every shortcut, every passageway, the hills and valleys, puddles, staircases, ramps, everything. Surprisingly it's a breezy ride. There weren't many thugs doing out this morning I guess. Or they just decided to magically leave me alone. I usually had to ride with the M9 exposed so if any jackass was thinking of jumping on me they'd think twice. But I think by now they got the message. I think I've only been jumped like say, maybe five times. And I've shot probably eight guys.

Killing people isn't the craziest thing I've ever done though. Anyone can kill a person. To do it lightly, no. Unless you're in the middle of a radiated warzone surrounded by fanatics, you shouldn't have to kill anyone for reals, but it's not the craziest thing out there. For me, the craziest thing I've done is on this thing. There's a highway that goes between the stacks, pretty much splits it down the middle. The occasional armored food truck rolls by to sell produce and maybe buy some of our shit. One of the things that definitely pass by here are IOI personnel vehicles. Usually these things would come by in the hopes that they would snatch up the 'indebted' when they were left unguarded. They wouldn't actually go into the stacks. They wouldn't risk sending in their goons into a place crawling with old veterans, peddlers and people like me that lawfully own a gun. Anyways I made a bet with someone that I could tag one of those things. Technically I did. I had some premade stickers that had the IOI logo on it, the number 6, and a red circle with a cross on it. I usually looked for a parked vehicle in town and splash glue on it and slap the sticker on it. Sometimes if I was feeling extra cocky, I'd put them in a formation making a phallic image. But what really makes a ton of views is when I actually did it while riding right behind them. I would hook onto their vehicle, glue the sticker on and tap their vehicle before detaching. Got the whole thing recorded too. That video got me a lot of recognition on the Gunter boards. I'm surprised I wasn't caught but it looks like other kids tried it too. I guess this is what it feels like when you make a trend.

I made it back to my homestack. Just above, about a few stories was my corner of the world. The whole thing looked like it was ready to fall down, but my dad and I ran the test. Honestly, you could dance on the rooftop like a madman and the thing would be sturdier than the Empire State Building. I have. Even recorded the whole thing while playing an old guitar.

Anyways I passed by Mrs Gilmore's streamliner. She was eating her eggs as usual. Normally she'd invite anyone to come to her spot. Even invited me and my dad over for dinner after fixing her plumbing. She was this kind of woman that I like but honestly I don't feel that safe here.

"Morning Miles." She cracked open the window just as I was starting to climb up with the whole thing.

"Hey Mrs G."

"How's the construction job?"

"Eh, you know. It's getting there. By the way, did Wade pass by here?"

"Oh yeah, he passed by here just a while ago."

"Well, that pretty much means I'm gonna be late. Sorry we couldn't chat but I got a class to teach."

"No problem."

Wade was pretty much that kid I played with and noticed him grow up. I have a kid but, well you'll figure it out. Anyways, the kid was one of many who're out there going after Halliday's Easter Egg. It's a hidden secret within the game that if found, will grant the player Halliday's inheritance, including soul ownership of the OASIS. Old fart even left a clue to find it.

 _Three hidden keys open three secret gates_

 _Wherein the errant will be tested for worthy traits_

 _And those with the the skill to survive these straits_

 _Will reach The End where the prize awaits_

And this pretty much causes a lot of problems down the line. I mean, playing a game that can make you rich as hell? Who wouldn't want that. Well, not this asshole. I'm done fortune hunting. So long as some kid with a good head on his/her shoulders finds it, I'm good. I got all I need. Wade on the other hand. Jesus Christ, he's got no parents, his guardians treat him like crap, no non-OASIS life. Then again that applies to a lot of people nowadays. I let him come to my place sometimes, both in the OASIS and IRL.

There were two structures connected to each other in the Torres' level of the stacks. One is an old tour bus from back when live concerts were a thing. And the other is an old mobile safe, the kind that took cash in and out of banks to the reserves, as well as stores and other places. That was my part. The level was suppose to be the roof but hell, there were so many people coming here we just had to put the two on top. Again, it's safe. We did the math.

So I went in, empty with nothing but tools, a fold-open couch-bed, a mini kitchen, and a cabinet full of food and clothing. This was my dad's part of the stack. I had to sneak through the back of the bus and got into the security truck. I had it locked up so even if some curious dick tries to steal my stuff, he'd have to survive getting hit with a barrage of 5.56 NATO rounds from AR15s. I had a camera hidden just in case. You pretty much need both the lock key and the alarm key to get in safely.

I got in and locked up my motorskate hanging it inside the security truck. I had all of my stuff inside there. My laptop, modem and router. A couple of novels I kept over the years, some snacks, gun crates and ammo. And of course, my OASIS gear, right smack in the middle. I had a full set. A haptic suit to change into, after a shower of course. A pair of visors in high resolution, an essential of course. Haptic gloves, latest generation. And a recent addition, the omnidirectional positioning seat. The one I have is meant to simulate sitting down, leaning against walls, climb hills. Along with the haptic suit, it really does give you the feeling of immersion, kinda like jumping through a portal.

With everything set, all that was left was to turn on the console, put on the equipment and take my seat. I had to utter my login pass phrase of course. "General, we're opt con and ready to roll, over."

* * *

Identity Verification Successful

Welcome to OASIS, LtThompson!

Login Completed: 08:42:51 OST-2.10.2045

* * *

OPS#1873. Pretty much my second home here in the OASIS. My avatar materialized in the teachers lounge of the school. And what was the first thing I saw? Well, two round things, and a pair of glasses. I'm talking about Ms Hawthorne. She sat right in front of me with one hand on her cheek, adjusting her glasses a it. Blonde hair, green eyes, good skin, and of course huge land tracts. You'd think I'd be pretty excited to have her as a friend. But that's it. A friend. Thing is, it gets annoying to have her orbiting me.

"Good morning sweetie!"

"Morning Hawthorne."

"How's my big boy."

"Doin' alright. What about you Marilyn Monroe?"

She giggled like I was actually trying to flirt with her. But honestly, I'm just trying to get out without being an asshole. And in actuality, she was the more aggressive one here. She had me pressed against the wall, literally. Normally I'd hide in the woods or hide somewhere else. But I knew I'd be late and had to pay the price.

"So, how about we play around later. I know a nice quiet spot where we can-"

"Actually, I hate to tell you this, but Sandy's coming over to visit after this is done and well...she's starting to come around."

"Still trying to get things straightened out with her? Honey, come on…"

"Lady, unless you're wearing black and yellow I ain't your honey." I managed to slip out and went to the door. "Now if you excuse, I need to take my student to Normandy."

Okay, you wanna know why I bailed. Well, because that wasn't a woman. Nope. It was a a gay Asian guy posing as a hot librarian. Yeah, just think about that. Don't ask me how I know that. Loose lips sink ships you know. And what do I look like. Here's a hint: according to my dad, I'm an 8 year old. Well, technically I have the maturity of a 21 year old guy according to the OASIS. The basis of my avatar is pretty much me back when I was 21. A bit more lean though. Less fat, more muscle. My skin color was the same, eye color and hair color too. Only difference is I have a ponytail. And unlike my real self which has good eyesight, I wore a pair of Harry Potter-esque glasses. Have to look like a teacher somehow. Unless you looked at the Faculty ID I had on my neck, they'd think I'm another student. That's typically the variables of my character, though I kept my height. Five foot seven. Mainly because it was the same as the caliber gun I had on in the OASIS and I just liked making the joke. So really, it was a 32 year old bitch going after a 21 year old shorty but it's actually a younger dude going after an old guy. Try not to burn your brain cells thinking too hard.

The OPS, or OASIS Public Schools are pretty much a blessing for me. Where do i even start. Well, my own High School experience. I grew up going to Fremont High School back when I was a kid. You get the picture, right? Lots of drugs, getting beat up is a common occurrence and the teachers were so crappy they didn't even know half the stuff they were teaching. I know there's no more than 500,000 people who died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So why did my history teacher claim there were millions dead and send me to detention when I corrected him. I'm surprised I even graduated. And of course, everyone's favorite topic, school shootings. Back when I was going to high school, there was a constant fear that one kid is finally gonna be fed up with all the bullying, harassment and gets his hands on a gun and just kill everyone. Usually the result ends up being either suicide of shot by a cop. They almost banned guns completely because of it. But now that most of the education system has practically migrated to the OASIS, I can still keep my guns, and students in the OASIS can walk calmly without fear of, well anything. You can look whatever you want to look like. You can be whatever gender, whatever race, whatever age, height, weight. And that's just within the OPS. Outside you can be an alien, an elf, an anthropomorphic animal, a cyborg, an orc, pretty much anything far and wide and in between.

The schools have some pretty strict rules about things, but apparently nothing about teachers trying to rape each other. I know I could just report it, but who the hell's gonna believe it. A guy getting done in by a babe? How can he not want it. But whatever, that's not the biggest problem I have.

Rules include things like keeping your character human. That's pretty much the first basic rule. Having a catgirl next to a zombie in the middle of the classroom is distracting, no excuse. Another isn't so much a rule, and more of a law of physics. No bullying, harassment, or swearing (exceptions may apply). The entire planet the schools take place in is a non-PvP zone. In other words, you can't touch another student if it potentially leads into harm. If it does happen, the system will immediately prompt it to stop and back off before calling in a teacher. And you bet we keep record. And verbal abuse is non-existent too. Pretty much, if you don't wanna hear a guy or bitch mouthing off in your ear you can block them. It even gives them a polite notification to fuck off. It works pretty well. I remember an anime that works like that. A teenage guy with his younger sister get sucked into an alternate world where literally all wars and conflicts are resolved through playing games, like poker, chest and video games if a society has them. I don't know if Halliday has seen it, but it would be awesome if he did.

But that doesn't mean things don't change. Everyone has their cliques, their archetypes they fall into. And they aren't that different. I could probably write a book and make a million bucks. But here's what I've seen:

Jocks: There's still sports being played in the OASIS. Football, soccer, basketball, swimming, cheer. And a few rich kid sports like archery, fencing, golf and even horseback riding. And then there's unorthodox sports like Quidditch, the broomstick sport from Harry potter, or that zero G team gunmatch from Ender's Game. But they still act like the jocks I grew up with. Not all of them were assholes. I've played soccer during high school but I don't consider myself a jock. For them, their sport is their life. This is what they'll remember when they leave. They're like gladiators back in ancient Rome. Hell, they might as well be considering the sports they play and how they play.

Fashionistas: You know what I mean. Those girls (or guys but typically girls) that are always talking about an avatar's color palette and clothing texture. How some people look like trash and how they're the forward thinkers in clothing design. Hell, they actually make their own clothing and go around selling it at school. At least they're doing something productive instead of just trashing kids. Some even praise other people's style.

Emo/Goths: There's always some group of kids that really becomes fascinated in the taboo. I get it. Some people really become interested in these things. But when you start wearing all black, put some grim imagery on your avatars' clothes, and try to become the modern-day Shakespeare, you're gonna get some dirty looks from people.

Nerds/Geeks: They came a long way from their hunkered rooms in the science lab. In general, they don't talk with anyone unless it's about things they like such as sci-fi movies, fantasy games, etc. Some of them are more focused on their studies though, kissing up to teachers for extra credit and getting high marks on tests. In a way, I kinda hate these kids sometimes since they're always bragging about shit. They talk about how they're all gonna succeed in life while everyone else is gonna be their minions. Oh my God, kid. Just shut up. I've seen your kind, and unless you have a million dollar idea or a plan that doesn't involve climbing up a non-existent ladder, you're gonna be in the same ship as everyone else.

Arts Kids: They're the ones with illusions of becoming actors and actresses, thinking they know the best films and TV shows. To them, Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks and Elton John are God while Michael Bay, Adam Sandler and Justin Bieber are the Devil. Can't disagree though.

There's other types of cliques aside from the ones I listed, but you get the point. Despite the transfer, they still exist.

I finally got to my classroom, where everyone was seated just waiting for me to come in. So I got to the chalkboard, with the words "WW2 Unit Test Today. Simulation to follow." written on it. "Morning everyone."

"Good morning Mr Torres."

"So, I'm assuming everyone here is ready for the test. I'm pretty sure I can just give them to you and you'll ace it. Right?"

They all nodded, looking refreshed and anxious to just go through with it. It's probably the simulation I had prepared for them that's getting them excited. Not a good sign.

"Okay, here you go…" Instead of having someone hand out pages to the rest of the class, everyone had their worksheets manifest in front of them. They really thought of everything. All that's left is for them to grab a pencil from the dispenser on the side of their desks, and just fill in the blanks. They can't cheat since everyone's worksheets are privacy protected. You can't just look at everyone else's paper and expect it to be filled with answers. They'll actually be blank. So really, it's like you're taking a test in an empty room. And if you try to take of your visor in the middle of the test, I'll know. I'll get an indicator that someone took them off and you'll get your sheet taken away with a different test. So you have to take it all over. So yeah, either you know the subject or know how to take tests. Fortunately for the kids it's World War 2 I'm teaching them. Everyone knows World War 2.

So they finished pretty quickly. In about 15 minutes. Honestly, it wasn't really that hard, and it's not like I was trying to make it that hard anyways. And for me, it's not even the real test.

"Alright. So we have four choices…" I tapped the board and out came four images of famous events in World War 2. "So here's our choices. We have the Day of Infamy in Pearl Harbor. The Siege of Stalingrad, because who doesn't want to fight for Mother Russia. The D-Day invasion, you know, Operation Overlord. And finally we have Okinawa. I've been there before. It's real nice during the summer. Go ahead and make your votes."

On the desk of every student had a ballot. Once they marked the box of their vote, they just swiped it to the floor, which then made it disappear and add a number to the board. Some of the kids made their votes pretty quickly, while others were taking their sweet time trying to decide the horror. Once in, they board showed what was their choice.

D-Day-17

Okinawa-5

Stalingrad-2

Pearl Harbor-0

"Okay, looks like we're choosing that one. Well, I hope none of you had a heavy breakfast this morning. It's gonna be a rocky ride." I checked the screen on my desk, with various Green lights flashing, indicating that other teachers had their own classes ready. The simulation needed to have at least three classrooms ready to house the same simulation. So all that was left was my class. "Now if you check inside, you'll notice GI uniforms. You can either be a regular grunt, a medic, or a specialist. That's usually a sniper or a flamethrower or heavy. I'd go for grunt. Just trust me."

It didn't take long until they wore their GI uniforms and had M1 Garands, M1908 Springfields, M1911s, and Thompsons. The girls still looked like girls but their hair was in buns to let the helmets sit. Once done, the board created a gate for the kids to walk into, leading into an LCA. "Seatbelts everyone. Bus is here."

We got inside leaving no child behind. Once all were crammed into it, the gate closed sending us back to June 6th, 1944. The LCA purred forward just as the ocean rocked them back and forth. I was able to get a feeling for the ship's rocking back and forth. I watched as kids tried to get through the nausea of being on a boat in rocky waves. I don't know who has better gear or who has the more basic equipment. But it won't take long to figure out.

I was farther in the back of the LCA so I could instruct the students on what's ahead during the field trip. I had to yell to make sure they could hear me. "Alright. You kids know the drill already. Get to the beach, meet up by the sea wall and get ready to storm the enemy trenches. You're just there to neutralize them. Remember, this is only for extra credit so don't be disappointed if you don't get to see everything."

"That's one inspiring speech there sir." A David9 said before then arching down to spew his guts out.

"You ate too much cereal this morning, didn't you…"

"N-No sir...I had pancakes."

Another student, an Evelyn64, let her stomach out. "Yeah, always happens…Especially to kids with better gear."

"So we get to kill Nazis for real?"

"Yes Todd, but only if they're armed." The guy driving the LCA yelled out thirty seconds. Gunfire from afar grew loudly as other ships were beginning to be attacked. The booming from the incoming mortars echoed as they hammered into the sea. "I'll see you on the beach!"

The boat was just seconds away, just barely within moments of touching the sand. With a thud onto the floor, I then instructed one of my students to lower the door, Gabriel47. Within seconds of blowing the whistle. Gabriel and other poor students were blown to bits and full of holes, spewing blood and falling like dominoes.

"Over the sides! Over the sides!" They went to the side of the LCA as ordered as bullets came raining down. Others didn't make it out, but the few that did now had to struggle to stay afloat, and make it to shore before the equipment soaked up and forced them to sink. I swam over dragging some of my other students, reaching one of the barriers laid out on the beach. The tide was able to help, just as they made it to drier land.

Already one of the students was just sitting there, hiding against a hedgehog barrier, horrified by the carnage on the beach. They saw their fellow classmates be blown into pieces. Their entrails spilling out onto the sand. Normally when a player dies in the OASIS, they end up dropping all the equipment they had on them in a flurry of pixels. But in the D-Day simulation, their bodies stay in the environment. It was meant to be fully authentic, so much so that if a World War 2 vet went through it, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

Evan5 crawled over to another hedgehog barrier yelling at me to get my attention. The only problem is, I couldn't hear it. The shell that blew up besides me made my headset ring just as another student was sent flying. His body flew to the side while I just heard a simulate tinnitus ringing just as Evelyn64 started shaking my avatar back into focus, thinking I was passed out or killed. A couple of tears were shown as she started checked my vitals.

"Jesus Christ! Get up!"

I then looked around as the few student turned to me for guidance. "What the hell are you kids doing!?" Head up! The machine guns will get to us if you don't move!"

"Move where?!"

"Head right to that crater! But don't bunch up! You bunch up and it'll attract bullets like bees to honey!"

It didn't take long until one student dashed forward to another barrier. And the others followed suit with varying degrees of success. It took me a while to move and some of the other kids were stuck emotionally, not wanting to get killed. It's kind of strange to suddenly see how these kids went from being untouchable and full of confidence into witless, scared children clinging on to the barriers like it was their mom.

When I checked who picked what, the statistics were not that surprising. Most of the males picked the grunt role where they just carry an M1 Garand and Thompson. As for a large majority of the girls, they chose the roll of field medic. And others transported the ammunition to the seawall. I guess it made sense. I've seen a lot of statistics claiming women will take more of the support roles in each game. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. I knew Samantha4 said she was going to be a sniper. And Gary22 was playing as a medic as well. Even says he plans on being a real doctor in real life. So I guess it's okay he sees a little bit of gore. Assuming car crashes are still a thing he's gonna need to get use to scenes like this.

It was agonizing to go any further. Some of the students were really freaking out about moving down the beach without getting hit by a bullet. Unlike the soldiers who actually fought with months of preparation for this assault, they didn't have the luxury. Or so I thought. Some kids were pretty good at it, taking quests in the OASIS, PvPing to get XP and loot. I doubt any of the other kids had any kind of preparation other than the hindsight that over 2,000 lives were lost in this assault. But within a few moments, a bit faster than the original 2 hours the real soldiers spent on Omaha Beach. Each inch gained felt like a mile, with digital toy soldiers with digital toy lives, families and dreams being taken away by a distant German machine gun. Some of them grabbed on to the students pleading for help as their entrails came out. I told them beforehand that they had the option to help their fellow soldiers. To at least make it back home, and get some extra credit. Of course, some would either bleed out, or get hit in the skull by a stray bullet. So really, it was one hell of a challenge to complete.

I managed to make it to the base of the seawall, with a few kids wisely following me. It was just under the nose of the Germans, not aiming down at us and unaware that we were still alive. Samantha4, Gary22, Evelyn64, Evan5 and Todd2 made it as well. All of them now a bit more acclimated to their new situation. Todd2 had with him the parts for a Bangalore torpedo, bit not all.

"Todd, what happened to your partner?"

"He's still in the channel sir! And I don't think he's coming out!"

Another student came by, flying close and shoving me over. "Sir, I'm Ricky27 from Mr Horowitz's class! Some of my classmates are coming over with you on this one!"

"Where's Mr Horowitz?"

"An MG round got him in the head sir! We brought what we could." He pulled out the remaining pieces of a Bangalore as another shell hit close by, taking more digital toy soldiers and students.

"Way to come prepared kid. Get under me and help out my friend Todd." I crawled over the boy just as a bullet grazed my helmet. The two kids then began assembling the explosive and pushed it closer to the barbed wire. Once it was at the right length, the two boys got the charge primed and ready. "Bangalore ready! Fire in the hole!"

Once it was pulled, they pushed the tubes in, creating a massive gap, giving them an opening to the trenches. "Sam, get ready to snipe the MG42. Todd, Ricky follow me and give cover fire."

"Yessir!"

They went along with me into the crater created by the torpedo. The machine gun then fired on us, ineffectively however since we were hiding behind slabs of concrete. Then Samantha4 took the shot, taking out the Gunners in the nest on the hill. It didn't take long until another one was shot down by one of the other students.

"Here's the real test kids! Neutralize the enemy! Go go go!"

Their gear then became hatred towards the Germans. Using the Thompson's, Garands, 1911s, and every weapon and ammunition they had, they went after the digital targets mercilessly. Machine gun nests were set ablaze by flamethrowers, frag grenades were lobbed into trenches. Some students even went after soldiers with bayonets. It was either practice for more questing and PvP, or just releasing of some pent-up anger. It wasn't long until the Germans began surrendering. Some came over slowly, complying with the orders given by students. Others feigned surrender and assaulted a student only to end up shot.

There was then another surprise that came out of the simulation. Some of the soldiers, German and American, had cards hanging above their heads. They were programed to pop up every time a student made physical contact. They were fairly simple. Name, birth and death year, nationality and a quick bio of the soldier. Some of them were blank, clearly an extra made strictly for the simulation. Others were far more elaborate, given that they were based on real life casualties and survivors.

I oversaw the behavior of the students as a simulation officer gave the report to a blank naval ship that a beach head has been established. One group of students, Matt19 and Ronald7 were both within range of two surrendering soldiers. It didn't sound like they were surrendering to them. They repeated constantly "Nie jetesmy Niemcami." Without much option, they shot the two. I of course, had to walk over.

"Matt! Ron! Don't tell me you just shot two unarmed soldiers, thus violating rules of war."

"It didn't sound like they were surrendering."

"I take German, sir. They weren't saying 'Ich gebe auf'."

"That's because their not German there kiddo." I tapped the soldiers to show what I meant and their cards showed up.

* * *

Albin Malinowski (PL)

Born 1926 Died 1944

Raised by a farming family in the outskirts of Ostrow. Was conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1943. Died trying to surrender to Allied Forces.

* * *

Nikolai Bartnik (PL)

Born 1927 Died 1944

Grew up in Warsaw through most of his life working at a bakery. Was then conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1943. Died trying to surrender to Allied Forces.

* * *

"Congratulations boys, you killed Polish Conscripts. And the other said, 'Nikogo nie zabiłem'. Which means 'We killed no one' in Polish. At least you didn't break the time-space continuum...although that would've been cool."

They were in utter shock, believing they were just in thinking they were being punked by weird AI. But instead, they ended up repeated the same mistakes their ancestors did. Without much else to say, they then picked through their pockets, finding journals and other articles. They were allowed to take things from the simulation, so long as they wrote a three-page essay.

And then another group of students came around to me with another soldier in German clothing. The simulated soldier was between Samantha4 and Ricky27 and his guns were carried by the two. "So, what did you guys catch?"

"Sir, I think your simulation is broken. I'm pretty sure he's not speaking German."

"No he's not Sam...no he's not." I approached the man who was shivering at the recovery of the shock made by the battle. He just kept on repeating 'Jebal ssauji maseyo'. I of course knew what he meant. So to calm him down, I just told him. "Jinjeonghae. Neoneun deo isang ssaul geos-ida." This got him to shut up. I then tapped the Wehrmacht Cross on his helmet which showed his language settings. I got them swapped from Korean to English. It's something the teachers can do, but the students can try too. "Okay, can you understand me now?"

"Y-Yeah...I can."

"Alright." I blew a whistle to get the few remaining students to gather around. They came by circling around me forming a neat row. "Kids, meet Yang Kyoungjong. He's got one of the craziest experiences in all of WW2. A Korean conscripted into the Imperial Japanese Army to fight Russia, then captured and conscripted into the Red Army to fight the Nazis, and then conscripted into the Wehrmacht to fight us…crazy story, huh bud?"

"You're not gonna conscript me again, right?"

"Not unless you want to. But hey, I bet there's a town in Illinois with a house for sale. Maybe you can...hmm, I dunno. I mean, you can go back to Korea. But hell, US has its arms open for you."

"Okay…" He was pretty much confused for the most part. Of course he'd be confused. All he knew was that he's just waiting for this goddamn war to end so he can just live without anyone asking him to pick up a weapon. Didn't care if it was in Korea, the US or even South Africa. He just wanted to be done with the whole thing. I knew what that was like.

"Say, Mr Yang. You don't mind talking to these kids about the crap you had to go through, right?"

"Uh, sure sure…" The kids gathered around him wanting to ask him a dozen questions. But instead it was Yang who was taking the lead of the conversation for once. It was his story, he should have the right to give the details, so it should be.

I managed to sneak out from the group and strayed to an empty pillbox. The only things in there was a box of ammunition, an MG42 and a poor bastard named Hans Fischer. Out on the beach was, well the carnage of the whole battle. Bodies turned into mush with their guts spilling out. The blood staining the water and drowning the fish out to the sand. Combine that with just how gray everything is. It would make any one depressed. But this is pretty much my 53rd time doing this. Plus, I've seen a lot of World War 2 movies as a kid. Played a ton of games in that time period too. This place isn't tame at all, but it's nothing for me to be that shocked.

Gary22 came by finding out I split from the group. "Uh, Mr Torres? You in here?"

"Yeah…"

"Whatcha doing here?"

"Nothing much Gary...just taking in the view…"

He leaned against the wall of the pillbox, looking out to the same gut-littered beach. "Hey, how do you get away with showing us this? Last time I checked, this kind of content is prohibited."

"So are swastikas. But because you guys are under adult supervision and because it's for educational purposes. Besides, I figured it would scare you kids straight. Get you to be a bit nicer to other people in the OASIS."

"Yeah, right…"

I wanted to ask Gary about it to try to change the subject. "So, what do you think? Halliday isn't the only one that can hide a good Easter Egg."

"It's cool...doesn't give you billions of dollars, but it's cool."

"Yep…" I knew half my students were gunters, (just call yourself egg hunters for Christ's sake.) And most of them took Advanced OASIS studies, an elective that taught you everything about the Gregarious Gaming Systems (GGS), James Halliday, Ogden Morrow, and every aspect of the OASIS short of the Easter Eggs, including the economics and philosophy of the game. I tell them to pick better electives but, hey I took a college prep class. Frankly I was better off taking Auto Shop.

But Gary got us back on the same topic. "So, was it like this in Korea?"

"Not really. To tell you the truth, we pretty much mopped the floor with them."

"Right. Is it true that Halliday sold the tech to the US Army and that's why we started winning the wars?"

"Hmm..not really. But a lot of the soldiers started playing the OASIS when it came out."

"Really?"

"Well I was playing for sure…"

Not a complete lie. Technically they couldn't lay their hands on GGS. But, they were going after interns. They showered them with offers to join the military, bonuses, scholarships, free tuition. And all they had to do, was to make a version of it to train soldiers for war. Seems logical. Why waste precious oil, resources and energy simulating battles with outdoor exercises when you can have realistic simulations that bring you much closer to the real thing? The thinking is thanks to a LtCol (ret.) David Grossman. According to a book he wrote called _Assassination Generation_ , kids are so exposed to violent content, that they are actually killing people in real life. Last time I checked it's because of excessive and unchecked bullying, easy access to firearms and psychological disorder. But the other book he wrote, _On Combat_ , the US military should take advantage of this. Newsflash dumbass! They've been doing it since the first video games were invented! In fact, they still make them! Tank simulators, Dogfight simulators, Boots-on-the-ground. Activision/Atari, EA, Nintendo. All of them were contracted at one point or another to make interactive propaganda. But hey, what do I know. I'm just a 40 something who joined the military and was the guy who made a war simulator under a US Army contract.

"Mr Torres...where do you think Halliday hid his Easter Egg?"

And here we go again, I thought. "Honestly kid, if I knew I'd just shut down the whole damn thing. Just kidding friend."

"Don't...just don't."

"Alright buddy. Here's a Socratic for you. What is an Easter Egg?"

"Hmm?"

"Answer that friend…"

He thought of it for a moment before talking to me. "It's a hidden secret inside a game."

"Good...but what about the first one? The one from Atari 2600's Adventure."

"Oh...it's a dot in the walls of the game and you have to take it to the start of the game. It showed the creator's name."

"Exactly. In other words, it's a creator's way of saying 'I'm glad you're appreciating the effort I made. Here's something that I think you'll like.'"

"Okay...don't know what you mean…"

"You gotta screw around to find it. Break a few rules."

"Huh?"

"Here's what I mean. There's a weird glitch I remember from an old World War 2 game."

"Which one?"

" _Blazing Angels: Squadrons of World War II_. It's a game made by Ubisoft in 2007 about a fictional Eagle Squadron. From 1940 to 1945. Not historically accurate in story but who gives a flying turd."

"Right."

"Anyways, during the Guadalcanal mission, I had trouble landing the P-40 they put me in after they shot it. I swear I almost gave up. But the I decided, 'screw it, I'll just land it before they shoot me.' So I did and I still end up shot. But at least I'm able to swap planes."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"It's a game. That's the point. Anyways, I was playing on a PS3. But a friend of mine tried it on an XBOX 360. Turns out he couldn't do the mission either."

"Okay...your point?"

"You gotta do something no normal person would expect. That makes Easter Eggs special. So Halliday's Easter Egg's gotta be somewhere no one would expect. Forget the PVP zones. Forget the references for a sec. It'll help eventually but in solving it, not in finding it. The Almanac, the Pop Culture Trivia, it's all to mess with idiots like IOI, to keep them from the Egg."

I'm pretty sure he didn't get what I'm talking about. "Oh...kay."

"Ah forget it. Come on...you're gonna be late for class." Outside of the pillbox, the gate back to the classroom opened and let the rest of my students through, leaving Yang in Normandy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Pearl Harbor, Stalingrad, Normandy, and Okinawa. The four battles I chose to highlight for extra credit. We recovered drowning sailors from the USS Arizona, fought Germans in the bitter cold of Russia, stormed the beaches again, and fought the Japanese on their turf. That's pretty much my whole school day. Fighting World War 2 in all fronts. Some kids actually suggested that we should've been in other battles, like flying SBD Dauntlesses in Midway or sailing ships across the Channel in Dunkirk, or liberating a Concentration Camp. They were things I kept in mind but like I told Gary22, the point was to shock them into being lesser assholes in the OASIS. I guess I'm a bit alone in that part.

Lunch break was coming up soon, at least for me. Some kids were able to eat and study without removing their headsets. It's not that amazing of a gift. As for me, it's kinda hard when you can't see what you eat. I had a personal Hawaiian pizza saved up and thought it was as good of a time as ever to reheat it and just relax in the Classroom. Well, really it's me inside of an old security van but whatever. Anyhow, that and a can of pop is pretty much what I had for lunch.

I had an OASIS channel set with various songs and a few snippets of commentary. I really wanted to make it like one of those old radio broadcast you'd find on your TV while channel surfing. It wasn't that much of a burden on me. So long as you could pay the premium, or didn't mind getting weird sponsorships, you can pretty much broadcast whatever you want, albeit under a few pesky guidelines. Just put a few playlists of TV shows and movies, insert a podcast here and there and tell your friends. Hopefully word of mouth gets you far enough to get some appeal. I frequently filtered out the broadcast for either fresh media I was feeling in the mood for, or updates on the podcast I held. I did recordings during school hours, since it's quiet and not a lot of ambient noise interrupted the recording. Plus, the chalkboard made it easy to make a good background. I had it look like a newsroom.

So, I just put on a microphone, had it set to record, and after swallowing come soda to wash down the bits of pizza I had left, I just started talking. I just waited for one of the songs to finish before I did. It was an old Japanese Pop song from around the early 2010s.

"HELLOOOOOO OASIS! If you're listening, then you're part of the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force! Remember! If it's not in their hands, we are winning! Aaaanyhow. Today I got word that one of the few last remaining sports organizations, the Fédération Internationale de Football Association, or FIFA for the rest of us anglophones, is migrating to the OASIS. I know it sounds kinda like I'm being an old man but when you've grown up watching soccer most of your life, this hits close to home. I'm pretty sure a few leagues are gonna stay the same. I mean, the MX League, the Premier League, Bundesliga and Argentine First Division are still going to be around. They're too big to be confined to the OASIS exclusively. But you can just say goodbye to the MLS and the J1 League. Hate to say it but they just don't retain the appeal they need to survive in the real world. I'm assuming the games for the leagues that still have IRL appeal will still take place in massive stadiums, but they're still gonna broadcast it as a 3D event. It's not that hard to do it. Hell, I've done it plenty of times. And in the case of the NFL, it's made a referee's job a lot easier. Still it's kinda messed up in a lotta ways. Back when I was growing up, it was FOX that had its logo all over the place. Now it's goddamn EA! We went from having novelty games with EA's logo, to the actually games having the EA logo. I blame the Europeans for starting it. But y'know what, I just got one thing to say... Mexico! World Champs!" I pressed a button on a soundboard I had stashed with me that played a recording of a Mexican soccer stadium.

"In other news, still no clues about where the Egg might be. Some people are starting to call Halliday a bluff. Some people are even claiming he's still alive and kicking. That he's back on Mars and living among the little green men. Guys, we all know that's not true... he's living among little green women. I mean, come on. That's what I'd call a party." I pushed another button and there's a TV audience laughing.

"But let's be serious here folks. You know that personally, I think Halliday should have seen it coming. It happened with Apple when Jobs died. If Halliday had known he was gonna die, he should've done better than hide an Easter Egg that might be impossible to complete. Seriously. Normally it takes a few weeks for people to find an Easter Egg in any other video game. But whatever. The guy had Asperger's anyways." And my finger hit the TV audience boo button. "Just chill people! It's just an observation. Anyhow, just keep looking for it, and make sure Sorrento doesn't get his hands on it. That's the end goal here.

"What else is there...uh. Oh, anyone else wanting to meet up with members of the Resistance Force, get some items to trade, some tips, learn a few tricks, there's a chance to meet up with us. I'll put the link to the invite request on the announcement wall for this channel.

"But for now, I'll leave you guys with one of Halliday's favorite bands, Rush. Tom Sawyer ladies and gentlemen. Catch you later with more."

Wade's character came through the door just as I had the recording pushed into the loop. "Hey, Old man. Got a moment?"

"Sure kid." He stood up and leaned against the chalkboard like he was one of the outsider kids. It was kinda weird when any students came for advice. I was usually a bit shorter, since students liked being taller than 5'9. I guess I have a Napoleonic complex. "What's up?"

"Not much. Just killing some time until the next class...you know. Advanced-"

"Advanced OASIS Studies. Yeah, I know…you're one of them gunters."

"Well...I kinda want to ask you about...you know, GGS."

"What about it?"

"You use to be an intern there, right?"

Ah, geez. Here we go again. And this is the first time a student actually talks about it with me. "I..kinda did. It was just for college credit tho-"

"You were there?! No freaking way! Did you get to meet Halliday?! What about Morrow?! What did you guys talk about?!"

"Woah! Woah! Calm your Tootsie rolls! And give me some space!" He had gotten closer to where I could see the pixels on him. He stepped back as soon as I told him too. "Like I said. It's just an internship. How did you even find out about it? I never told anyone here in the OASIS."

"Old Benny told me about it a while ago when I traded some food stamps for a couple of electrical parts."

"Aw nuts." No freaking wonder. Back when I was a kid, fed up with working with my dad, day in and day out like some kind of modern day Egyptian slave. I was applying for colleges like crazy. USC, UCLA, ASU, NYU, Harvard, Yale, Brown. I wasn't exactly the smartest kid, so of course none of those colleges took me in. But there was one that did take me in. That was the University of Ohio.

I got in with a declared major in Digital Graphics. Makes sense, since the OASIS was right in the middle of it's upward momentum in stock and popularity. And besides, it's better than saying you majored in Lesbian Dance Theory or Canadian Studies. I'm pretty sure those were just made so that people could pick an easy major to impress companies. Anyways, since I was a Graphics major, I had a chance to work as an intern at GGS. You could imagine how much I was gawking the whole time.

So I just leaned up against my chair, put my legs up and relaxed. In real life, I was suspended in the air with my haptic pants stiffening underneath making it feel like I was on a hammock. "So what do you want to know kid…"

"There's something that...it's kind of weirding me out here. Was...was Halliday ever Islamophobic?"

"Eh?" This is not the usual question. I mean, the kid would normally give me a pop quiz or some insane theory about the Egg. But this was new. "What's with the sudden- Okay, first off, the guy doesn't hate anyone. At least within reason. He gets pissed at people who either go against his 'vision' or don't know anything about the media he obsessed about."

"Did he hate you?"

"No!...Well, he didn't like me but...we got along." In all honesty, I've barely met the guy. I've only seen him outside the office a few times in an old-timey arcade. I think the only time he ever actually talked to me was when I took the top score in _Space Invaders_. You know, the one where you shoot aliens and hid behind barriers as they came at you. I had taken a few tips and tricks from an online forum. After a while, I decided to take advantage of the fact that you could destroy the barriers yourself and cut slits through them, making a sniping wall. After a while I'd just dodge and weave taking out the descending aliens. With some practice, I finally got the top score and right on the screen, it showed simply TOM.

And right behind me, there he was, just standing there as I put my name on the Leaderboard. And do you know what he said to me? "You took my spot." And then he just steps in, like a King kicked off his throne fighting to reclaim it. It didn't matter whether I tried to have a conversation with him. I was trying to tell him that I was an intern from Ohio State, how I played the OASIS obsessively and how I wanted to be part of the project. Instead he was just zoned-in on getting JDH back on the top.

"Why are you asking anyways?"

"Because, I was kinda curious on your take on the whole Racergate Scandal that took place."

"Oh God!" I I covered my face and blew a loud breath through my fingers. "Dude...I tried. I honestly tried to stop that -storm. Like, I knew it was just gonna- the system censored me, didn't it…"

"Yeah."

"God ff- damn it. You saw that, right? I just did a 'Fff' and it tried to censor me."

"Yeah."

"I know you shouldn't curse but you gotta sometimes kid. Teacher tells a student his grades are…" I paused to make sure the system wasn't gonna report me again. It was annoying as shitty motherfucking cunts. YES! Another thing that makes real life better than VR. "Next thing you know, Halliday flipped out and fired her out of the building faster than a 5.56. Bitch was crying like a- Oh my God I can still say bitch…"

"It's not a curse word."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Well then someone should've told my mom…"

So, a long time ago when I was going to Ohio State, I met this girl from Syria. You know Laila-"

"Laila Quaraishi. Right."

"Okay, don't do that pal. Who- who's telling the story, you or me?"

"You are."

"Exactly. So let me tell it. Anyways, turns out she had a huge interest in computer graphics and got an internship at GGS to get some experience. There's just one problem. When it came to Pop Culture, she had no idea what anything was. She's from Syria of all places. Their government was censoring the internet for pretty much anything not approved by them. Just like a couple of OTHER DIRTBAGS I KNOW!" I pretty much had it with the censorship system in the school. "Anyways, that meant she didn't know anything about _Space Invaders, Galaga, Back to the Future, Firefly, Ghost in the Shell, Speed Racer_. She was a total outsider!"

"Right. So she made the mistake on the Mach 5 because she never saw _Speed Racer_?"

"Nah, she saw it. I had her marathon it for the first couple of episodes. Nothing romantic or anything. I mean she was Muslim, I was Christian. No way it would've worked." Although I will admit she was kinda hot in that headscarf she wore. "She just brainfarted on the project and forgot to put the 5 on the car."

"That's it?"

"Yep. Take note kid. Sometimes the root of all suffering is something so trivial and stupid…"

So for any of you that need some background, Racergate is one of those incidents like Gamergate that borrow their name from the original Watergate Scandal in that they're based on some type of leak and a lot of controversy occurs. Anyways, Racergate pretty much started when I noticed Laila didn't put the number 5 on the Mach 5. By the time I raised my voice to tell her, she had already sent the file to be viewed by the staff. I was pretty sure Halliday wasn't gonna see it before we fixed it, but he did. He did, blew his top, and Laila Quaraishi was fired that day, because she didn't know something that happened in episodes later on in the series. And eventually news reached outside GGS. One of the other interns apparently told someone else after he/she left, word spilled out all over campus, and...well, you've seen _No Safe Space_ , right? People in college go nuts over this. A white male in position of authority, firing a Muslim refugee woman for screwing up on something minor? How abhorrent! We should violently protest and tweet angrily about this.

And where was I? Hunkering down with other interns along with Halliday, Morrow, Kira Underwood (y'know, Morrows eventual wife) and Laila. Yep, Laila never actually left. I told Morrow about the incident and how Laila was really trying and how it was something so minor we thought we could just fix it. I guess it was hard for Halliday to grasp the idea that someone like Laila existed. A person who had no idea about any of the Pop Culture he loved because some assholes wanted to have a monopoly on thought. A person despite not having much experience with modern tech is still willing to learn. You can bet this got a lot of people choking up inside. Especially Underwood, being a woman and all. So they all agreed that Laila could come back and that this should be used as a lesson. And we all spent the rest of that same evening to review over pieces of Pop Culture masterpieces right after a snack run. And of course, Halliday was in control.

We had shared this news online as just a midnight reference binge, but by the time we did, the damage was made. Already people were rioting outside. We were stuck inside our building for about a week. They were ready to kill Halliday. It wasn't until we came out together arm in arm in solidarity that they backed off and let Halliday form his apology. Of course, it was written by Morrow, followed by his speech, Underwood's speech and Laila's speech. Long story short, everyone who protested looked like an asshole and GSS went up in stock again. It was pretty much the biggest scandal in gaming that finally gave closure to the idea that video games were against progressive ideology.

"After that, Halliday began assigning people for quality control. Y'know, people who know their pop culture. I ended up being one of them."

"So you know what his favorite things are."

"Yup. Favorite music, video games, movies TV shows, anime, heck half the stuff I already knew. I even knew how he liked his lattes."

"Huh?"

"20% Expresso, 80% half and half, stirred 24 revolutions and decorated with an 8-bit character on the foam. Anything counts. Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Mario, Legend of Zelda, just make it cool."

"Oh...kay."

"Not a lot of people know that by the way. Hey, maybe that's the secret to the first key! Just make a Latte the way Halliday liked it and poor it on any Arcade game!"

That got him holding on to his sides. "Geez Mr Torres! That's... that's a good one. You gotta put that in your podcasts."

"No I mean it. At this point, it could be the answer to the first key."

"Yeah right...If you know all of that, how come you're not going after the Egg?"

"Because if I did my ex-wife will ask for it in the next alimony."

"Hah...no really."

I sighed and just looked up at the kid. "I'm too old for treasure hunting Wade. I mean, I look like I'm young here, but real lives matter the most... you ever asked a paraplegic about their OASIS experience? What it feels like to run?"

"Uh... I don't really know."

"Exactly. But if you do, they'll tell you it's just like real life. They're running in the OASIS, but they know they're still crippled. They're just letting themselves be doped into thinking otherwise. Now look at the real me. Forty seven, wrinkling and greying, can't use the bathroom like normal people, and living with an old man."

Wade just patted my shoulder like he was talking to a kid. "I get it sir...So you're an old man. You're still one of the coolest people I've ever met."

"Thanks... now get to class. You don't wanna be late."

"No sir." We shook hands and he went for the door, before I stopped him.

"Hold on. Before you go, you know the whole latte thing?"

"What latte thing?"

"Good kid." I fingergunned him out and he returned fire. Wade, (you guys might know him as Parzival) and I have this type of uncle/nephew relationship. Sometimes I give him a ride in a ship I have bought, 'loan' him some cash, or just talk either here or out there. No family, no friends, I felt kinda like him when I was his age. I was, well his pseudo father figure. Seeing how my kid was under the ex's care, it helped me in a way. I remember when he asked if I could make a hideout for him. We basically hollowed out an old van, got some parts from the garbage, and badabing badaboom.

He was really passionate about the Egg hunt and Halliday. Most kids are but he's really into the whole thing. He's practically devoted his entire livelihood to finding the Egg. He's pretty much your typical Charlie Bucket. Only instead of playing a lottery game that's rigged for him to win, he's actually putting in effort. And that's what I love about video games really. Sure, it takes some money to buy them, but once you do, the rest is a matter of skill and the ability to learn. It's pretty much the true equalizer. Your social class, your race, gender, sexual orientation, religion. No one gives a shit about it. All that matters is how good you are, and what your avatar looks like. And those are all things you can control. In other words, if you're one of those people that whines about not being able to do anything, because of your background or something, then you're just in an abusive relationship with yourself and should break up. Take this Easter Egg for example. Everyone has the chance to find it. No possibility is too insane by now. And Halliday left behind a ton of clues. You can tell he learned his lesson from Racergate since he made a list of things he liked, and ranked by favorites no less. And all of it was before 2005 so they're officially part of the public domain. In short, there's no way no one could figure it out.

I guess that's why Halliday decided to turn his inheritance into an Easter Egg hunt. He wanted to find the best successor objectively by making an unbiased contest. I'd say it worked somewhat well.

So after this, my classes were Japanese language courses. So pretty much me teaching them how to hold a conversation and watch anime without the subtitles. So their test is a two parter like the US History test. First one being a kanji literacy test, and the extra credit being a conversation with someone from Japan. I actually got a few friends of my pen pal from Sapporo, Kei Fujiwara, to help me out. I met him when I was in Okinawa during my military service. Guy now works for a company called Crypton Future Media, a company that produces digital instruments. At one point, they began working on digital voices which they call Vocaloid. At first, they were just sound libraries that could imitate speech, and grew popular to where they could be used for music writing. They even made concerts in real life using holographic technology. Hell, even one of their most popular characters, Hatsune Miku, performed in the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Opening Ceremony, and in the last Super Bowl Halftime Show. They still have concerts, but not as many if my living situation is to be believed.

And that pretty much sums up my school life. A teacher in the OASIS Public Schools. It's great. Gives me purpose, pays the bills, I get to see kids grow and gives me an excuse to play games. What more could I possibly want...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

School eventually ended, and of course that meant I could go out on some rip-roaring adventure on my own. Typically it's not safe to leave a Non-PvP zone, but it's not something to worry about that much. So long as your level was high enough to use the items you have and use your head, it's gonna be okay. I've only died like five times so far.

As soon I got out, I made my way to the parking lot where, surprise surprise, Gary22 was waiting for me. "Kid, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Yeah, but I need a lift."

"Geez…and you think I can give you a ride."

"Well, you give Wade3 a ride and he's not your student anymore."

"Yeah but the thing is-" He had me checked. I couldn't tell him that it's because I knew Wade IRL. And it's not like I wanna show any particular favoritism. "Fine. I guess I got some time to kill. Will it take more than three hours?"

"Nope. Should be in and out if we make it in time."

"Got it planned out?"

"Yep."

"Good. Get your things ready…"

I took Gary22 across a row of cars and ships. Mine was a personal specialty. A few spaces near the end, I had a Grumman F-14 Tomcat, sitting ready for takeoff. Now before we go any further, let me go ahead and make this clear. I do not have an obsession with my name. It just happens to be used a lot. Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, Tomcat, Thompson, Peeping Tom. See where I'm going? That's why I had the Tomcat renamed as the Athena. Because, you know, a high school teacher should name his vehicle after the Greek goddess of warfare, wisdom and handcrafts.

Anyways, I had a few modifications made to it. Instead of the TF30 engines that were normally equipped on the fuselage, I had two 4L4 fusial thrust engines installed. We're talking about the same ones that are put into X-wings. I also added in repulsor lifts as well so I didn't even need a long runway. The weaponry was also modified to fly wing-to-wing against any IOI starfighters. They're basically F-35s with engines capable of going beyond its normal 1,200 mph. According to a couple of leaks from semi-reliable sources, the US Department of Defense let IOI use the specs to do research on its combat capabilities since they're planning on replacing it with a better multi-role fighter. So far, it's been able to shoot me down twice, after I've shot down dozens of their own. And for the skin of the Athena, it remains consistent with Top Gun (the 1986 original, not the crappy remake). But it would be too easy to just leave it that way. So I had to add in an Anti-Sixer Resistance Force logo on the right wing, which was a Rubik's cube with the middle about 45 degrees skewed. The part on top was blue with five stars and the other faces were striped with read and white. I also added the bait box image by the cockpit. Pretty much a fish in a black box with a hook in front.

"Geez. That's a…"

"An ugly starfighter?

"I was gonna say unique."

"Good, because if you called Athena ugly, I would've flunked you." I got the canopy for the cockpit to open up and both Gary22 and I hopped into the seats. I got my helmet on and spoke into the radio mouthpiece. "How's the view back there?"

"All good here."

"Okay, here's the real fun part."

And with little to no effort, Athena roared to life with the repulsors pushing the aircraft off its landing gear. Gary22 finally gave me the coordinates as soon as it started cruising at mid-atmosphere.

"This doesn't seem too far...so what's so special about this place?"

"It's a planet based on Aztec mythology. If everything goes as planned, we should be getting an artifact."

"Sounds fun…"

The deal with artifacts is, well two things. One, they're pretty much one of a kind. You have to earn them either by completing a quest or by killing the poor sap who has it equipped at the time. They're rarely sold off but it's usually because the player can no longer use it, or because they found something that better suits their playstyle. Not only that, but two, they can't be replicated. This is due to the crafting rules in the OASIS. Sure, the actual 'crafting' is easy. It's the baggage that comes before it that makes things complicated. Things like finding someone with the appropriate crafting level and skills, which means that only crafters with stonemason skills can make stone items. Wood items can only be made by carpenters, metal items can only be made by metalsmiths, computer parts can only be made by... well you get the picture. Not only that, but you also need the blueprints to make or repair items. And I know you're thinking 'big deal, what's the problem?' Well, if it's not a consumable like blue silver colloid or 45 ACP, you need a blueprint. Doesn't matter if you know how to make something by heart, you need a blueprint. Sure, something like a chair or a bike is easy. But if you want to craft a car or an energy weapon, your best bet is to download them. Some of them are still protected properties since GGS bought the distribution rights to most properties. Not to mention they can let you patent new content you make. But you have to submit it for review and stuff. Sure, Athena is technically an original, but still it's a pain in the ass fighting it in court. It's easier to just find and buy these things. Trust me. But I'll just shut my mouth. By now I've rambled on more than I should.

So we arrived to the planet jumping out of lightspeed just within a few miles from entering the atmosphere. It was lush and green with rivers pouring from active volcanoes into the seas. Parts of the planet were barren desert and others were miles of maize fields. But mostly, it looked like it was all dense rain forest, probably full of animals like jaguars, armadillos, parrots, poison dart frogs, etc. Pretty much every animal on the endangered species list.

"Anywhere I'm supposed to land?" I turned over to Gary22, who is now Vejovis. A lot of kids looked towards mythology for their OASIS IDs' inspirations.

"There should be a pyramid somewhere around here."

I had Athena scan the area for any potential landmarks to help land near the target that wasn't too populated with NPCs. Who knows how they would react to seeing a giant, titanium alloy bird. And within a few moments, I noticed a patch of cleared trees with stone buildings and various NPCs. It had to be the Capital of the Digital Aztec Empire.

"I see it kid. Say, what exactly are we here for anyways?"

"I don't know exactly but I know a lot of healers have been trying to get it. And the few that have tried it said they didn't have enough blue silver colloid."

"And how much do you have?"

"Enough to turn the whole Resistance Force into giant smurfs."

"Alright... We'll be landing soon, so get your stuff ready. This gonna be cooler than doing the Kessel Run in eleven par-" Boom. The whole bird just shut down on me. The avionic went blank, the holographic helmet went blank, and we were beginning to stall out.

"Uh, Mr Torres, what's going on?!"

"We've gone blind. Both engines have failed. We're going down kid."

"What?!"

"Mayday mayday! This is LtThompson! Emergency landing near the Aztec Pyramid! I repeat! Emergency landing near the Aztec Pyramid!"

I checked the map to look for where we might end up crashing. Problem 1, we were heading for a questionable hilly maizefield. Assuming the angle of descent, it could kill us. Problem 2, which is really troubling, I was never going to get the Tomcat started again. Right at the corner of the in-game map, was the physics ruling of the planet. Magic only.

I had to manually open the wings to keep the thing in the air. The joystick wasn't reacting properly so we were dangerously cruising in the air.

"What's going on?"

"Hold on to your chair V, we're ejecting! Meet by the crash once you're on the ground!"

Grasping onto an emergency handle, the canopy popped open and our chairs sent us out the Athena. I saw as it sank down cruised down like a well made paper plane. Heading into the maizefield, the bird flipped over spinning and plopping down with a screech of metal. I felt its scars carved in as I floated down from a parachute.

Once on the ground, I sprinted towards her, all mangled and bend with the wing pulled out and pieces ripped out. The internal body seemed alright, and so long as it didn't catch fire, we were in the clear.

Vejovis came quickly as well, and was almost panicking when he saw me try to kick the wing.

"Holy shit!"

I turned back to him walking with what I think was a pretty pissed off face. I don't really know what it looks like but I could tell Vejovis was ready to piss himself. "Kid, I need to ask one question...why the fuck didn't you tell me, I was heading into a magic-exclusive zone?!"

"What?"

"Yeah! Athena can't fly! Anything invented after the 1500s that isn't powered by magic is completely useless!"

"You mean we're stuck here?!"

"No fucking shit Sherlock! Thanks to you, we're stuck on this rock, surrounded by things that can kill us!"

It didn't take a psychic to tell what he was thinking. The kid was very studious. Did his homework, paid attention, participated in class. So you gotta imagine what it's like to see your teacher, the one who's supposed to be calm at all times suddenly go apeshit. "I'm so sorry Mr Torres! I just... I just…"And he began balling up.

I did what I needed to do to get the parts together. I dragged the seats that blew off back to the craft and got the other pieces together. I did what I could putting the wing back into place with the blueprint I had stashed away. Fortunately I had enough crafting skills and obtained a couple of tools like a sonic screwdriver to pretty much be a ready mechanic. So once Athena was fixed, I had her turned to the road.

Vejovis was just sitting there the whole time. He was trying to see just how I could repair the starfighter while he just sat and watched. It was too obvious he was a little depressed.

"Hey uh, Vejovis…"

"Yeah?"

"You uh...holding up alright?" He just nodded his head a bit. "Listen kid. I'm not mad at you because of Athena. It's more about you not planning ahead of time...then again I didn't check the physics ruling either. So shame on me too…let's just go look for that artifact. If you say it's worth it, then it's worth it."

That got him at least on his feet. I don't really get pissed off that much for some reason or another. I guess because I've grown up with a man that blew his top off everytime I screwed up. Only difference is I usually just burst out my frustration in another direction for a few seconds instead of just giving an angry church sermon. Once I was done venting, I'd focus on a solution. In this case, send a distress call to others in the Resistance Force.

Once that was done, I popped open a panel on the side of Athena where I had a bunch of weapons stored. "Ranged weapons or CQC?"

"I'm more of a support class to be honest."

"Whatever works."

I handed him a bow and quiver of arrows. Vejovis wasn't really the type to just rush into a fight. If anything he avoids conflict at all costs and focused on being the one that drags your body behind a corner just when you're about to die. I don't know if this is part of medical school or any pre-med class, but I know this is more of the type of training you get in the military.

Meanwhile I had with me a type of macuahuitl (I honestly can't pronounce that word to save my life so I just call it the Jaguar paw.) The main body was made of ultra rare, reinforced steel with the teeth still being made of obsidian. It's pretty much the Aztec sword given a 21st Century upgrade.

Once we got moving, it was just a matter of blending in with the natives. Which now that I think about it, shouldn't even be possible. But then again, it's a game. The NPCs just saw us as just some random tourists coming to visit their culture. I dunno. For me it's a bit jarring that people known for astronomy, architecture and bloodthirsty religions would just be nice to two kids. One wearing a plaid shirt, tie and jeans, and the other wearing a hoodie.

Another player seemed to be stuck here too. Vejovis and I noticed him just wander around aimlessly without much to blend him in with the crowd. He had on a vest made with local fabrics and carried with him a backpack and shield. Underneath it was modern clothing, meaning he had to be another hapless player who got stuck here too. So I did what any responsible adult would do...walk up waving my hand and get his attention.

"Hey, you stuck here too?"

He backed off a bit, guessing he was a bit scared. I would too I guess. "Relax. We're friendly. We're not here to PK. Come to think of it I don't know if this is a PvP area."

"Que? Perdon. No entiendo."

In retrospect, I should've seen it coming. I mean, the OASIS is accessible to anyone around the world with internet access and gear. And it's not like everyone is in on it. There's still pockets of dead zones here and there which baffles a couple of kids in my class. How can there still be places where internet access is scarce? Well, there's Cuba. I mean, that place barely opened up to capitalism. Northern Korea is still rebuilding. Parts of Africa and the Middle East are in the dark. And some rural parts of North America aren't fully connected. Assuming from the Spanish, the time, and the Aztec setting, the bastard had to be a Mexican noob.

"Hang on a sec." I fished out two stones from my pocket that were tied into necklaces. Specifically they were rosetta stones. You just picked the languages you want to translate over and boom. It had your more common languages (Spanish, English, French, Mandarin, Japanese, Hindu), obscure languages, (Esperanto, Latin) dead languages, (Maya, Aztec, Sumerian, Navajo) even made up languages (Klingon, Dothraki, Elvish, Minionese for some fucked up reason).

So I gave him the rosetta stone and had it set for English-Spanish. It would then flash subtitles just under our chins. Mine are in Spanish and his are in English. When talking with NPCs, the subtitles are automatic. For other players, there's a bit of lag that happens as someone talks.

"Okay, now can you understand?"

"Uh...yes. I can. How is that?"

"Rosetta stones. They can translate most languages. Although you're better off learning English. It helps. Anyways, that's Vejovis and I'm Thompson."

"Oh. I-I'm Bicktor."

"Bicktor eh?" I showed my hand as a sign of friendship, which he took a bit cautiously. "First time?"

"No. It's actually my fourth?"

"Fourth? Oh, so you're still trying to get the hang of this?'

"Yeah."

It's a mystery to me why, but Morrow has this weird obsession with quarters. I get it. I grew up stashing quarters away to play at arcades. But apparently he wanted to make the world's largest coin-op game. Long story short, if you died in the OASIS, all you had to do was buy a new account. It's not as frustrating for beginners since they don't start off with much anyways. But for veterans with years of investment in time and money? Jesus Christ, they just lose their shit.

So it turns out the guy just picked the planet to start because he was most familiar with the culture behind it. Makes sense when you don't realize you spawned in a PvP zone. However it looks like he did okay for a fourth try.

"Alright V. You're back in the lead. What do you know about this artifact?

"Well, we have to start at the base of the pyramid, climb to the top, and drop an enormous amount of blood in it."

"Makes sense."

"Wait wait, what are you here for?"

"An artifact. A lot of healer types have been going after it. Supposedly it's a type of health bank."

"Hope it isn't some kind of messed up trap."

"Well don't jinx it."

It wasn't long until we reached the pyramid. It wasn't really so much a pyramid so much as it was carved stones making steps all the way up to what looked like a temple. We all went up the steps wondering what to expect. Well, we all were. According to Vejovis, the clue that was left for anyone looking for it read as follows.

 _To those who seek aid from gods of old_

 _Must play a game by rules untold_

 _A great sacrifice must be made_

 _For a great reward to be paid_

What is it with game devs and making poems as clues for their artifacts? I mean, just make the answer simple for once. But who am I kidding. If it was easy then it wouldn't be a special artifact now would it.

Once at the top, there was a small sacrificial altar with a bowl for blood letting. I think it's fairly obvious what they wanted us to do. "So what's your strategy V?"

"Arterial cut. Take a colloid every time I reach ten percent to keep from passing out."

"Long ways or short?"

"Long ways of course."

He pulled out a knife he had stashed in his backpack and made a long incision on his left forearm. And of course blood dripped into the bowl. It seemed to be at half empty (or half full for some) no matter how long Vejovis bled. It was like something out of an emo rock band cover. Think about it. A guy bleeding out his wrist into a bowl while chugging blue silver colloid. I don't know if he was feeling it. I mean, all you needed were haptic gloves and a headset. If he were using a full suit, he'd feel it.

Bicktor had just looked around by the base of the pyramid while I was just sitting there. My student just bled out with a wrist. "A great sacrifice must be made, for a great reward to be obtained. Just how great though?"

"How many sacrifices were made here?"

"I don't know kid. Some people say the Aztec would make about a dozen sacrifices. Maybe even hundreds during major events."

"Really?"

"But it seems a bit to obvious. There's gotta be something we're missing."

"An eclipse?"

"Maybe."

Vejovis drank another colloid and was just about to slit his wrist again when Bicktor came back with something that looked like aloe vera. "Wait a moment!"

"What is that?"

"Maguay. It's the plant associated with Quetzalcoatl. There's a legend that says that in the city off Tollan, Quetzalcoatl actually halted the sacrifices. Instead he urged the citizens to prick themselves with the thorns from these plants."

"So you're saying...holy shit we've been doing it all wrong!"

"I should've known that! God fucking damn it!" How the hell did I not see that! I mean, have a thousand players died thinking if they did they'd get the artifact. Man, now they're really gonna be pissed off.

Vejovis took the plant immediately and inspected it curiously. "So I just poke myself with these...huh" He only prodded himself a small bit with only one drop falling into the bowl. It filled up almost instantly with the sun then turning dark above us. If I was reading the situation right, I guess we cracked the poem.

Arrows began flashing on the ground taking us down the pyramid. It wasn't long until it took us to a flashing area in the city where people were gathering around. It was an area shaped like an I'' with two rings on the walls. About five people were waiting for us at the other side of the court wearing padding and red feathers. And then that's when the first part kicked in. To those who seek aid from gods of old, must play a game by rules untold.

"Uh guys...I'm pretty sure we have to play court ball."

"Wait, what?"

"Imagine football, soccer and basketball rolled into one."

"I'm still not following it."

"Geez...the objective is to get the ball into one of those rings before the other guys do. You can't use your hands, so you have to use your knees, elbows hips and head. Oh, and the ball can't hit the ground under any circumstances. Played any sports before?"

"No. You?"

"Yeah, but I was a reserve goalie for Ohio State. Didn't get much playing time."

I looked over to Bicktor who had just geared up and put on the padding and blue feathers. His neck and fingers cracked like he knew exactly what to expect. I'm guessing he studied Aztec culture beforehand and knew how to play. Meanwhile my expertise is World War 2, the Cold War and the first half of the 21st century.

"So we're really doing this. We're really playing a game we don't know the rules to against high level NPCs."

"You want that artifact, don't you captain?" It took a while to notice, but apparently Vejovis was the captain by default, since his padding had a piece of gold.

We were lined up taking a 2-1 Formation while the Red team took a 2-2-1 formation. A ball about the size of a baby watermelon manifested and dropped between the red captain and Vejovis. Pushing him to the side, he claimed the ball and elbowed it to one of his teammates.

They just kept on taking the initiative throughout most of the game. It was clear they were trying to get the ball over to the red ring. And what we had to do was get it through our blue ring. And let me tell you, it's like trying to thread a needle while riding a bucking bronco. Simulated blood began to seep out of our bodies just affecting our health by fractional margins. The floor began taking up a considerable red tint that almost covered every corner.

Vejovis barely got any opportunity to hit the ball. He wasn't really much of the athletic type. So in a way, we were simply using his head to keep the ball in the air. Bicktor on the other hand was much better. Me, I was the goalie of course. Just shove the NPCs away from the ring and send the ball to the other side of the court. I said I didn't get much playtime, I never said I wasn't any good.

It didn't take long until I was able to decipher the way the red team was playing. Two would get ready in the rebound and get ready in case the opponent got the ball. They'd be ready for the volley and try again. I'm pretty sure Bicktor and Vejovis were seeing it too. So it was up to me to get the catalyst going and end the game.

With the ball bouncing off the wall, I managed to cradled it on my knee. So once the red players jumped to try to block the shot, I bounced it again in a more direct shot to Vejovis. He then volleyed it upwards to Bicktor, using the wall to get more height and headed the ball into the ring. It was only by a small margin, but fortunately it aligned just well enough to land softly on the inner rim. And once the ball touched the ground on the other side, the crowd around the court went wild with joy, and so did we.

"That was amazing!" You probably know what it was like. High fives all around, hugging each other, your legs feel like jelly and you just wanna fall down because you're that tired. Soon everyone began cheering around us, but mostly around Vejovis. Of course since he was designated the captain, the NPCs were programmed to give him credit. But that's not the only reason apparently.

Two guys wearing jaguar skins came by and began to take Vejovis towards the Pyramid once more. "Hey! What the hell?!" Lieutenant!"

Bicktor and I were pushed back as they took him up the pyramid. It took a while to hit me when I realized what was going on. I heard from an old documentary about the Aztecs that when they discovered a ball court, they initially theorized that the ball game was done in conjunction with the ritual sacrifices and that they sacrificed the losing team. However, due to the fact that it was usually high ranking members that got sacrificed and that it was considered an honor, it's possible that it was actually the winners that were sacrificed. In this case, the team captain alone was sacrificed.

He was put on top of the sacrificial pedestal with the jaguarskins holding his arms and legs. A priest emerged holding an obsidian knife while Vejovis just flailed in panic. We all knew this was a game, but a game with really heavy consequences. If you die, you lose everything. Your stats, your history, your in-game currency, your property, poof! Up for grabs. So it's no wonder he'd be pissing himself. He just kept on yelling and flailing as the knife was sunk into his chest. And that's when things got really interesting.

Coiling around the pyramid was a giant serpent with brightly colored feathers coming from its head. It was kinda like an Aztec-stylized version of the Chinese dragon. With the sky darkening from a moon blocking a distant star, it was no mistake this was the mystical Quetzalcoatl, god of the wind, civilization and humanity. Its head then hovered over Vejovis who was at the brink of death. And in a swift motion, it swallowed Vejovis whole and then...nothing.

Suddenly the sky brightened up with the sun returning. Every other NPC went back to doing whatever they were originally doing. And at the top of the pyramid, all that was left was the blue captain's equipment.

"What happened to your friend?"

"No clue honestly."

We went around looking for Vejovis by the base of the pyramid. And turned out, he was okay. Better even. He had leveled up and had with him a new friend. Flying around him was a 2ft long snake with vibrant feathers like the ones on the Quetzalcoatl. It seemed to be more playful than normal snakes, brushing against Vejovis as it flew beside him.

"Woah! Is that the artifact?"

"Yeah, apparently." He had the description of the artifact in full view for us.

 _Tepiani_

 _Type: Living Health Bank_

 _As the sign of Quetzalcoatl's blessing upon the player, this creature will protect its user keeping an eye for any potential threats. It can kill the enemy by sucking up its health and in the event of injury, can heal the user by transferring the health it absorbed. Over time, it can increase the amount of health it can transfer the longer it stays with its user._

"I'm thinking of calling it Tepi for short."

"Tepi?"

"Not a bad name kid. And I'm pretty sure you'll be damn useful to the Force."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, well...there's this clan we're a part of it."

"Clan?"

"You know, groups of players that get together to get better at a game. They're basicallly teams."

"Oh…"

"Yep...If you want you can join. I mean, we can use as many as we can get."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Who knows, maybe we'll run into another Court Ball game and need you as our Ace Striker."

"Umm...sure I guess."

I finally received a message from someone responding to my mayday call. It was from another member of the Resistance Force known as DeeDee.

 _From: DeeDee_

 _To: LtThompson_

 _Subject: Mayday Response_

 _Mon Ami. I am currently en route to your location. Just so you know, this is going into your tab that you still haven't paid since last time. Don't make me charge interest._

 _Relax. I have the coin. I'll pay you once you get here. It'll be an Aircraft Tow out of the atmosphere, along with passage for two more._

 _How about I just charge you for the tow? I feel like you and your friend can hike it back to L._

 _Friends. I have two with me right now. And I highly doubt they'd want to squeeze into the back._

 _Okay. But only because we're going to the same place._

Our tiny trio finally made it back to Athena where a 2012 Toyota Tundra was waiting,with a logo on the door bearing a black cat with a red scarf on a broomstick. Right below it was the name of his business, 'DeeDee's Vehicle Service: Fixes anything, anywhere'. Just outside was a catlike avatar with black fur. He had on a mechanic's jumpsuit and an Aliens movie T-shirt. And no, I haven't met this guy at all. All I really know is that he's from France, and that's because of his accent. And he's usually trying to copy American slang and failing beautifully.

"Yo! Tommy!"

"DeeDee! How's business bro?"

"Tres fantastique mon ami. So, the new recruit is the one in the native clothing."

"Yep, that's Bicktor. Bicktor, this is all-around vehicle ace and bailer of errors, DeeDee."

"Nice to meet you mister." The two shake hands joyfully. "So, just a question. How are you actually gonna get us out of here? I mean, you came here on a truck."

Thankfully Vejovis was able to explain it. "You know that flying car the Weasley's have in Harry Potter?"

"Yeah."

"They did the same thing."

"Really? But how's it gonna help us?"

That's when DeeDee went into French uncle mode. "Well, we're going to tow it using this right here." He then wrapped a chain around Athena's front landing gear.

"And it'll work?"

"It's the same truck that pulled the Endeavor in Los Angeles." No kidding. When I was younger and they started retiring the space shuttles, Toyota actually pulled off this crazy stunt. Long story short, the shuttle had to go on an overpass in order to get to the California Science Center. And a typical big-haul was only going to add too much weight for the road to handle. They already cut a bunch of trees to let the beast through. The city wasn't gonna spend more money on an overpass that may or may not hold up a space shuttle and a big-haul. So Toyota, being a longtime partner with the California Science Center, offered a truck to tow the shuttle across. I actually got to see that thing get pulled across. You had no idea the things I had to do to get my dad to take me. Anyways, it actually pulled the Endeavour shuttle pretty effectively. It was like seeing a little kid drag a giant ball bag across a field. It's not very effective but for what was expected, it did okay.

Anyways, if a Tundra can pull a 300,000lb space shuttle like a heavy trailer home, then a 40,000lb starfighter should be no problem. The two kids sat inside the truck along with DeeDee and I was in the cockpit of Athena. It managed to get her airborne and pulled me up pretty darn well. All I had to do was make sure Athena was level while it was being dragged outside of the atmosphere. Once in space, I could've just told DeeDee that I could leg it from there, but he insisted on taking me to his ship. It makes sense given how much of a pain hassel an unhitching in space is. I'm just hoping he doesn't charge me up the ass after this.

He then took us to his freighter that was waiting outside of the planet. Honestly, it wasn't that impressive. It was big, about the size of a modern cargo ship, but trust me. There's bigger ships like the Enterprise, Imperial Star Destroyers, the UNSC Infinity, you get the picture.

Bicktor was pretty impressed with everything. There were other vehicles DeeDee was working on like a couple of armored vehicles, modified starfighters, enchanted vehicles, etc. I'm guessing he just thought they looked cool. Some starfighters were fairly common but since Bicktor isn't that experienced, he was like a kid walking into a mall candy shop for the first time.

"Alright Tommy. Up front."

"Yeah yeah Français chat." I finally had to pay my tab once he and I were in his freighter. Once we went into lightspeed, the exchange had finally been made.

"So. Why exactly are we meeting by the Makrim Ring?"

"You'll find out soon."

He kept on pestering me about it, asking why he had to do a bunch of fast jobs on untested starfighters. I wasn't too bothered why he asked. Usually uglies like Athena were considered unstable to fly. Even in the OASIS it's not like you can just slap on a bunch of metallic wings onto a fuselage, put an engine in the back and call it an aircraft. Actual engineering like weight calculation, energy consumption, aerodynamics, avionics, and other stuff has to be taken into account. So retrofitting ionic engines into aircraft not designed to hold such powerplants were prone to failures sometimes.

Within a half hour later, we were soon within the Makrim Ring, an extent of asteroids orbiting a star just between two planets. Most of the asteroids were in a fixed position as they orbit, but others were smacking into others. It was pretty dangerous to navigate if you had no idea how to fly, so luckily DeeDee was good at captaining a freighter.

And given a few more minutes we were at visual distance of a Star Carrier. It was in dark camouflage with some graffiti painted on the side. Some of it had a cat dressed as a poptart, a disfigured Sonic the Hedgehog and Knuckles, some more original works here and there, and of course the unfinished Rubik's cube representing the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force.

"Tommy, we're here."

"Hey kids, get your shoes on!"

They were both back with the rest of the uglies playing on one of the arcade cabinets DeeDee had in the bridge. Oftentimes to kill some time and to earn some coin off passengers, DeeDee had them all over the ship. Vejovis convinced Bicktor to play a bulletstorm game while they waited to reach our destination.

Once granted access to the carrier, the gate into the low deck opened up, allowing it to move inside. We emerged inside and entered the vehicle deck of the carrier. As we got out, a short dark skinned girl wearing her hair in a braid greeted us as the freighter opened up.

"Lieutenant, you're needed at the bridge. You're already late for the meeting."

"Just chill Mitchie. It's not like the battle's gonna start yet."

"And it's not like that'll sit well with the Admiral."

"Yeah, well the Admiral can just suck it."

"I'll make sure he knows. And I'll make sure you get about five minutes, given that there's an new face." She pointed towards Bicktor. She had the ability tell who was welcome to the carrier. Pretty much anyone with no contact to IOI. So she extended her hand to him while smiling brightly.

"Bicktor...welcome to the USS Barack Obama."


	4. Chapter 4

Connections - Ch 4

Now before you start asking, I originally wanted to be on the USS Donald Trump. But usually officers are assigned by the Flagship committee and aren't exactly interchangeable, unless there's two ships that wish to trade officers due to insubordination, lack of experienced officers, etc. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Barack Obama. I have nothing for him either. He was just the President during my teenage years. The reason I wanted to be on the Trump is because of a bit of catharsis. Plus 'Make OASIS Great Again' is a rally cry I can get behind better than 'Hope'.

As for why the ship named after a US President, well, there's a story to that. You know how I ended up working for the military on a version of the OASIS to train their troops? Well, this was the result. The military has had a history of working with game companies to make recruitment games, or what I call 'Interactive propaganda'. You know, games about World War 2, Vietnam, The Middle East Wars, romanticized versions of the Second Korean War, and any potential war that might come in the near future, specifically against China, Russia, or a fictional terrorist group. And the first one hundred to complete special Easter Eggs along with completing all the challenges offered get their very own star carrier. They're kinda like the aircraft carriers in the real world, except they float through space rather than in the water. Instead of having its fleet resting on top, the main deck is right in the middle just resting at the bottom of the hull.

As for the naming conventions of the ships, it's completely up to the player that earns it. They usually try to encourage either using the names of Presidents (see the USS Kennedy, USS Ford, USS Reagan) or the more conventional names like the Saratoga, the Lexington or the Yorktown. Of course, with other ships like the Starship Enterprise, it's pretty obvious there's going to be overlapping. So the military doesn't mind if someone decides to rechristen a ship. You get names like the USS Skywalker, USS Miyagi, USS Lightman, USS Eckert, pretty much the last names of 80s movies protagonists. There's also more creative names like the USS Centurion, USS Victory and the USS Defender. Currently there are 56 active US Navy star carriers, twelve of which are under Resistance Force command.

When you earn a star carrier, you can also make changes to the carrier. In terms of aesthetics, color patterns, size and layout of quarters, and the exterior hull of the ship. Security is completely up to the player and AI behavior for the crew can vary from duty-bound or occasionally slacking off.

One thing that is unique to these star carriers is what we call the Intelligent Deck Operations Leads (ID-OLs for short). These things were in charge of the ship while the player was off being a Captain Kirk. When I was in the development of these star carriers for OASIS use, one of my co-workers, Lt Harry Davidson, had a thing with military moe-anthro. If you have no idea what it is, it's basically the concept of blending military with anime _High School Fleet, Kantai Collection, Strike Witches, Girls Frontline, Girls Und Panzer,_ you get the picture. It was a huge thing when I was growing up. Anyways, we struck a conversation about how it would be applied in the recruitment games. We thought about having our ID-OLs as an alternative to just having a creepy HAL 9000-esque supercomputer. At first it was just an idea we had circulating around, but eventually it got around our office and even reached our supervisors. The guy had us meet with him about the idea, and turned out he actually liked the idea. He even liked how the girl we designed for the USS Kennedy, the ship he served on, looked a lot like his youngest daughter. I know it seems creepier than HAL 9000 but hey it worked for the Japanese.

So we ended up ripping off _Aoki Hagane no Arpeggio_ and gave every ship an ID-OL. We went into full research for them too. Edna of the Enterprise constantly referenced Star Trek and claimed to be a superior ship, Yami of the Yorktown always dressed like George Washington on the Fourth of July, and Cathy of the Kitty Hawk always wanted a pet cat. And anytime the Admiral decides to rechristen the ship, the ID-OL will ask about the inspiration to her new namesake. The AI will then do research to emulate the themes related to the namesake. And the results? Lisa of the USS Skywalker is obsessed with Lightsabers and Star Wars, with R2 Units and porgs running around the ship. Danielle of the USS Miyagi wears a karate gi or a kimono depending on the occasion and is either waxing the vehicles while reciting mantras or offering to spar with someone and give a few pointers. Maddie of the USS Lightman is crazy for arcade games and litters cabinets everywhere, refuses to carry nuclear weapons on board and offers to play a nice game of chess once in a while. And Judy of the USS Eckert is constantly paranoid about her ship being attacked, carries a Kalashnikov on her back and claims the Russians can still invade the US.

When it comes to Presidents however, they become a bit bland. I based the ID-OLs off either their spouses, their daughters, or just recreate a female version of themselves. Teddy of the USS Roosevelt carried a stuffed bear with her while wearing a Scout uniform and glasses. We're talking post-segregation when the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts finally converged. They say that killed the Scout Organizations by 2025, but we all know it was the OASIS that ended the Scouts. Drew of the USS Eisenhower will pay a ton of attention to the traffic within a light-year of the carrier. Jackie of the USS Kennedy looks a lot like the First Lady in her teenage years and is gonna make a few innuendos. And Donna of the USS Trump is a red-hatted blonde that loves gold-plated everything and will come off as narcissistic, bullheaded, and will say she's really lucky during victories. And for our own Mitchie of the USS Obama, she's pretty much job-heavy, more leaning towards diplomacy and formalities, and always on the lookout for more recruits. So why does she act cold and antagonistic to me? Well you put the pieces together Sherlock... I'm a jackass.

Anyways, if I keep going on I might as well look up Davidson to explain it more in detail.

So I had my clothes changed from my teacher's uniform into something more akin to a cyberpunk soldier. Military jump boots, bloused pants, quadanium steel chest armor, ARC goggles and tac gloves. Hanging on my back was the Jaguar Paw and slung to the side was a Thompson submachine gun. It wasn't the best in the game, if anything it's about mid-tier. But it does the job well. Plus, I get to say I carry around a typewriter. A Chicago Typewriter of course.

Once I was in the Bridge, I got in contact with Mitchie again, who had finished orienting Bicktor to the beginner's quarters. Pretty much a place where we have a couple of practice games for our new recruits. A firing range, vehicle sims, a few puzzles, the good stuff. I knew for a fact Sam would be there too, playing as ReBelle. She practiced using a Model 1866 with a modified scope, kinda like the one Doc Brown used in the third _Back To the Future_ film. All steampunk-looking with a telescopic sight.

"So Mitchie, how much until H-Hour?"

"Don't know, can't say. You should know by now."

"Yeah but I just need to know how close we are."

"Check the clock."

There was one on the top of the entry to the Bridge. We were one half hour away from H-Hour so at least we had time for the last minute debriefing.

The Bridge was full of NPC officers working on desks facing outwards looking into space. Looking over them was the Admiral, Elm. Says he got the name from some crappy fantasy novel from the 2020s. Castle on the Horizon or something. The guy was an insomniac that moved to Europe. Which part? Can't say. The guy's a vagabond that goes between hostels and changes location frequently. Sometimes he's in Rome, sometimes in Marseilles, or Luxembourg or Barcelona. Even been to Moscow.

He along with other Admirals from different fleets were on holographic screens being projected from the floor. And despite being late, he gave me a warm welcome. "This right here is MajThompson. He's the one in charge of the assault on the Sixer Fleet."

"A-Actually I'm L-" Before I had a chance to correct him, Mitchie had socked me in the gut. Hurt like hell but I sucked it up.

"Anyways Thompson, if you can explain…"

"Yessir." I had a PowerPoint presentation ready for the day. They were crude models of the Sixer Fleet and the Obama's complementary fleet, but it would work for display. "As you may have heard, some of our friends from the USS Perseverance we're taken by IOI a few days ago. Currently, as far as we know, they're being taken to an IOI Center in Columbus to settle their 'debts'. However, this is a purposeful action. Since IOI can't identify them, they won't be able to find the saboteurs."

A hologram of the star the Sixers used then showed up. "As you know, the Sixers use a Klein Effect Shield much like our own. However, if that is lowered for a second, then we can deliver a payload into their inner powerplant. This will disable their ship and allow us to board. Once inside, our crew will deliver one of these."

I showed them a digital flashdrive. "This is what we call a rubber ducky in the hacking community. The minute it jacks into any computer it'll perform whatever task we want. In this case, deliver us everything the IOI knows about it's Oology Division. Passwords, logins, schedules, locations in the OASIS, current objectives, artifacts collected, even the brand of underwear Sorrento uses and what color. All that's left, is to strike hard, and fast. Once the Obama's fighters hit, the other carriers should follow."

Some of the Admirals were just sitting there twiddling their thumbs as I showed them a projectile hitting the side of the IOI carrier. It wasn't like I was suggesting anything new, other than the fact that the Perseverance guys were planning on being captured. Even the Admiral of the ship was questioning my sanity. "Are you saying you communicated with my men, without consulting me about using them in a suicide mission?"

"It's not a suicide mission if they know what they're doing. Besides, they're at the most minimum in terms of debt and we can pay the IOI off for their release."

"Yes but I don't see how such an endeavor is worth the risk. Are you sure this plan will work?"

"MajThompson has completed far more dangerous missions before. If he says it'll work, we can't do much to dissuade him." Elm half said it in confidence and shame, like he was admitting to having three inches.

"Very well. We know our timestamps. Let us finish our preparations. Godspeed gentlemen."

"Godspeed" The ID-OLs of the other ships spoke in unison as the transmission cut.

"Sir, we've detected a Sixer Fleet within our AO." One of the NPCs spoke up.

"On screen." We then say our targets of the day. The ships were hulking and massive, almost about the size of a whole town. It looked like it was capable of squashing all of Manhattan in one landing. "It seems to be cruising. It might not even be able to make a jump to lightspeed. Mitchie, get the starfighters in their launch tubes."

"Yessir."

"Thompson, excuse the informality but due to recent events, you're promoted to the rank of Major. I hope this won't cause an inconvenience."

"Not by much, sir. I'm honored."

"Good to hear. Now get moving."

I ran back into the main deck with all the NPC Skittles moving here and there to get the starfighters in their launch tubes. They're basically electromagnetic platforms that send the starfighter down the side of the ship through a tube, basically turning you into the bullet of a gun. Anyways, I took the central one in an assigned row of five. Waiting was my Athena, an Me 262 Swallow, a J7W Shinden, a MiG-21 Fishbed, and a Gloster Meteor. A lot of our starfighters were modified with hyperdrives and ion engines. This was because we started out by scraping up whatever junk we could find in the OASIS. Sometimes we were lucky and would find a completed one. But instead, we resorted to using uglies most of the time.

As it turned out, the squadron I was heading, Maverick Squadron, was composed of players I was able to trust the most. Usually I'd end up stuck with greenhorns but I guess because this was a decisive battle, they don't want to send noobs out. Anyways, we have Ms Hawthorne as Honeydew (Mav 2). I know, she can be a bit clingy, but at least she's good with German jet fighters. Plus she's good in terms of magic-based combat. Saved my ass more than once when she's not oggling over it. And there's OwOza (pronounced Oh-woah-zah, Mav 3), who's basically Fujiwara in a cyberpunk ronin outfit. The guy's as useful as a Swiss Army knife in a gunfight, in that he can improvise pretty well even if the opposition has every weapon available and he just has his fists and wits. He insisted on flying the Shinden since it's a Japanese prototype and it's the one he's most familiar with. Then there's Sayf (Mav 4), some Arabic chick from God knows where. She says she's somewhere in the US, maybe Philly. But I wouldn't be surprised if she popped up in the Rojavan Union or Saudi Arabia or something. How do I know she's Arabic? She wears a hijab in game and has an accent. Plain and simple. But does it really matter? I mean, the unwritten rule of the OASIS is to not talk about politics or religion unless you're in a church communal or debate forum. All that matters is how useful your avatar is in any given game. And in this case, praise Allah for she's a good Meteor pilot. And finally, San (Mav 5). He was a bit of a noob to the OASIS. As far as I could tell, he barely learned enough English to stop using a Rosetta Stone. Which is always a welcomed thing. I mean, I could understand him sometimes but my Korean wasn't that fresh. And it's only fitting that he uses the Fishbed in this battle, given that half his country was once using Russian fighter jets.

Right before takeoff, just as I was strapping in, an NPC Obama crew member passed me my helmet, a human illusion with some words of encouragement. "Good hunting Major. I got money saying you'll get about two dozen Sixers."

"Thanks. Listen can you do a favor?" I handed him a note. "Give it to Vejovis five minutes after deployment. And you know that MXY-7 I brought in?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Get that thing loaded into Tube D8 ASAP."

"Roger that."

The NPC left as the tube doors closed, putting Athena into an air pressured chamber. With the buzzers announcing the deployment, I was shot out of the launch tube with the rest of Maverick Squadron. Other squadrons followed suit as Iceman, McCloud, Rosco, Richtofen and Yeager. You know, naming our units after famous pilots from real life and fiction, interchanging names to confuse the Sixer Fleet in every encounter so they wouldn't be able to identify our aces via radio interceptions.

"Alright guys. You know your routes. Keep the chatter to a minimum until we reach the Sixers. Stay sharp and good luck…"

"Roger."

Navigating through the asteroid field was soupy as hell with the rocks changing course from time to time. Fortunately, this was technically Resistance Territory. If you looked at a map of the whole OASIS, which was a cube divided into 27 sectors like a Rubik's cube, we controlled a good chunk of the core sector along with other parts scattered around. This was so that we could jump between sectors without having to use much fuel or time. Plus, we've been studying the movements of the asteroids in the Makrim Ring. It seems like they move at random, but if you look at them for awhile from a distance, you'll notice a few small patterns. Things like asteroids smashing into each other the exact same way, some parallel in trajectory and others just loosely bouncing off each other. It seems chaotic but there is an order to things.

In just a few minutes, silence was broken.

"This is McCloud Leader. We got a Sixer drone down. They're getting close."

"Noted. Converging on your position. We're getting close to them."

Before long, the Core Sixer Fleet was within view. Corvettes, Freighters, Destroyers, Magic-based Assault Ships, and the flagship of their flotilla, the IOI Acquisitor. From what I heard, it operated similarly to other naval ships in the OASIS. However the design was more nuanced with the runway between two bodies, like a catamaran. It tempted pilots to strafe her deck with cannons on top being the harbingers of their demise. And rather than remaining as conservative as possible, the Acquisitor was a behemoth making us feel like mosquitoes pecking at a beached whale. It didn't take long for the other ships to notice and send their starfighters.

"McCloud Squadron, checking in."

"Yeager Squadron, checking in."

"Iceman, checking in."

"Rosco Squadron, checking in."

"Richtofen, checking in."

"Maverick, checking in. All squadrons, engage fighters. Maverick, attack the Acquisitor and her deck."

"Roger."

The starfighters split up as the IOI began sending its own. However, rather than using the F-35s that were known for, they ended up using a different fighter. As San and Sayf attacked the turrets, the others went in low to strafe the fighters. Although the Klein Effect shields were active, they weakened slightly as one fighter erupted. Only a certain number of shots, within an instant, would oversaturate the shield before even a tile left an invulnerability. If not, then it would recover and remain impregnable. As the IOI fighters deployed, the design was soon noticeable. They were made with a rolling cockpit design, in that the main body would turn while the cockpit would remain level to a certain axis. In this case, their field of view would remain constant with that of the Acquisitor's bridge. This way, their pilots could avoid any disorientation and more accurately communicate. It looked like they breeded an X-29 and a Dornier Do335.

"What the hell are those?!"

"They must be the new fighters. Looks like they're trying them out for the first time. Keep your shields up and get them busy."

"What?!"

"Just buy some time!"

"What about the boarding pla-"

"Forget the plan for a sec. Just hit as many fighters as you can."

"A-Alright!"

"Mav Leader to OBM, sending coordinates of the IOI Acquisitor."

We abandoned the plan to attack the carrier and hunted down the IOI starfighters. We were pretty much outnumbered 1:14. But we knew how to exploit the psychology of the Sixers. From what I heard from leaks and espionage missions (in-game, IRL or other players) the Sixers are worse than Stormtroopers. It may seem misleading since they're all Level 99. But that's only so for A) intimidation tactics, and B) so they can use any and all pieces of equipment they come across. However, that means that some of the Sixers are either veterans, or total novices that haven't had a day since recruitment day. Communication is spotty within their ranks, some of the noobs are unfamiliar with the gear, and the veteran players are beginning to be frustrated by their lifestyle. So if they think they can shoot an enemy fighter, they'll go for it, even if it is a trap.

I remember at one point after Halliday announced his Easter Egg Hunt, CNN tried to get an exclusive inside look into IOI's Oology Division. A campus tour with a view of what looked like a place dedicated to gamers. Food, boarding and a gateway out of poverty. It seems like heaven, but remember, that's how most guys are suckered into the Army. The only difference is that the Army makes it feel like you're doing something for everyone in the world and gives you a way out. IOI on the other hand, forget it. They might as well tattoo and IOI logo with your six-digit code because you sold your soul to the devil. No scratch that, the devil is at least willing to trade back. IOI is much worse. Your life is regimented to where your only identity is the six-digit code. You get up, grind, lunch, grind more, study, sleep, repeat. And in five years, it went from being a bragging point that you're part of the team that'll win, to the proof of your miserable existence and reduction of your humanity.

The Anti-Sixer Resistance Force (A6RF, the Resistance, the Force) is different. We're technically a Merchant Navy with an Army, and we're connected to the FOG (Federation of OASIS Guilds). We use the same tactics as the Sixers in terms of collective intelligence, holdings of important shipping lanes, and focus on ranking. However it's our approach that differs. We acknowledge that not everyone will be able to fight in every battle available. And given the way the game plays, not everyone wants to. But you didn't need to fight alongside us to help. Just small stuff like buying cryptoproperties or watching what we put on YouTube or Twitch was enough. We had sponsorships, accounts, donations and word of mouth to keep us afloat. But it was enough. We had a functional Merchant Navy and Vanguard covering important locations ready to counter IOI, some saved up credits at our disposal thanks to steady income, and the support of other players, some of whom are willing to drop helpful hints, tips and tricks. And since we have players from almost every corner of the world, that means we have players ready at every hour. Perhaps we're not at the highest level, a majority of our players are in the 40s levels. But we make up for it in strategy, spirit and support from the people of the OASIS.

"Attention all fighters. IGBMs locked on the Acquisitor and surrounding strategic targets. Danger close."

It wasn't long until Mitchie's warning rang true and rockets blew up just onto the Acquisitor's deck. Once the radioactive clouds dispersed, the carrier showed light damage to its shields. The way Klein effect shielding works is a little too complex for my personal understanding but it's basically a force mirror. If you've ever seen a Klein bottle, it's pretty much a tube where the bottom is also the opening. The idea is that you go in a Klein bottle and come out, but mirrored. And you wouldn't even noticed it. So imagine firing a bullet into that shield. Instead of piercing through the shield or bouncing off, it takes in any kinetic energy and mirrors it back. Thus, it falls down almost harmlessly. And if it had serial numbers, they would be printed backwards. There are exceptions however, since radiation goes through without much problem. Also, a Klein effect shield needs a lot of energy. Something like a General Dynamics Generation Four Fusion reactor in a star carrier will make a Klein effect shield highly resistant to most attacks. A shield on a starfighter however won't be as resistant and will probably take about two solid hits before crashing.

"Major, how much longer until phase 2?"

"Not too long. Why? You getting tired Honey?"

"Aww, you're worrying about me!"

"I worry about everyone. Don't feel special. OwO, still alive buddy?"

"Barely! I've lost my shield!"

"Sayf! San!"

"We're doing okay but I don't know if we can last!"

"Jesus Christ! Alright, regroup on me!"

I headed into the asteroid field with the rest of the squadron on my tail. More IGBMs inbounded for affect but failed to break down the shielding on the Acquisitor. Whatever powerplant the IOI was using is probably a prototype for a new class of nuclear reactor in real life.

Eventually Elm reached me in the comm. "Thompson, care to explain why you sent a drone fighter into the battlespace without telling me?"

And out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the tribute for our victory. The MXY-7 cruised silently with little detection.

"You'll see soon Admiral. Everyone, regroup on my position. We'll go for another run."

They went into position just following behind. One of the starfighters, a modified F-86 Sabre began flaring up with a huge fire in its engine. "McCloud 4, you're flaring up a bit. Retreat back to the OBM."

"Negative, Major! I can still keep going!"

"That's an order pilot!"

"I can still fight!"

The chatter was picked up by one of the enemy fighters as a squadron charged into us from behind.

"Evasive maneuvers! Cloud 4! Eject!"

McCloud 4 managed to jet out of the Sabre just as it blew up. His body smacked into a nearby asteroid, disintegrating into a flurry of pixels.

"Well, there goes DanE."

"Shit. Kid was barely level 30."

The Sixer fighters almost crashed into other asteroids when the MXY found its way and formed up with the rest of us. Up close, the rest of the squadrons began noticing the markings. The Rubik's cubes arranged and deformed into a cherry blossom, the different middlefingers and Anti-Sixer logos placed on it, and the phrase "It's not like we hate you or anything…"

OwO caught on to the plan. "You know my people would find that offensive, right?"

"It's been over a century. We're over Pearl Harbor, you guys should be over World War 2. Just move on already."

"No I mean the phrase. It's suppose to be 'It's not like i like you or anything.'"

"Is it? Whatever. Everyone, follow my lead."

I dove down and aligned my attack to a nearby freighter. I had the onboard computer target the nose of the ship.

"All fighters on that freighter. I want its shields down."

"Roger."

"Ryokai."

"Targeting."

"Locked on, Major."

"This shot has to be focused...ready…" There was a slight moment of hesitation as I caught notice of the MXY charging it's hyperdrive. It was almost time, and it knew it. "Fox 1 Fire!"

A flurry of missiles, energy bolts and magic pulses flew towards the freighter. Slowly but surely, the shielding began to crack, showing signs of saturation and finally, snapping. The freighter was now highly vulnerable to any and all offensives. And once the alarm on my watch rang out, I knew we were right on schedule with the other boys.

The MXY-7's engines roared up and in one bright flash, sped into the freighter in a brilliant flash, rivaling that of the system's star. When the flash stopped, the freighter had disappeared, instead now a field of debris. The chunks flew into the rest of the fleet, either disabling or destroying vessels. As for the Acquisitor, large chunks crossed through the body and one of it's main reactors was inoperable.

"Major, was that?..."

"A relativistic kinetic kill vehicle. Or RKKV. It's a weapon that uses kinetic energy to destroy other ships. First used in Philip K Dick's _The Variable Man_."

"You mean the _Blade Runner_ author?"

"And the author of _Man in the High Castle_."

"That explains why you chose an Ohka Bomb."

"The US Navy use to call them Baka Bombs."

"Oh, so it's a Tsun Bomb? That's so cute!"

"Ha ha...very funny there Honey. Let's see what'll happen when he starts making fun of your culture." OwOza can get pretty defensive sometimes.

"Well if you find a sombrero and some tequila you can do it all you want. Phase two begins now."

The other squadrons flew close by either making a mess of nearby ships or shooting down enemy fighters. And just as we began our assault, packs of transports began emerging from the 'top' and 'bottom' of the battlespace (there isn't really a compass to follow in space, so we just designate the compass by the relative position of the nearest planet or star). They were ships from the Miyagi, the Starship Enterprise, the Akagi and the Infinity, with enough troops to hijack the whole fleet. But knowing IOI, they probably have some type of failsafe to make sure we don't gain control. But that's where the hackers come in.

I got the Athena to fly close by the Acquisitor and hide near an asteroid after a sequence. As I flew by, I opened the hatch and floated towards a busted opening. Unlike real space, it isn't a complete vacuum and actually allows you to 'breathe'. Since there's magic in this world and transgalactic trains with space access, then the guys at GGS decided to just make everything breathable. There are toxic planets though.

Shimmying through a crack, I placed on a pair of Augmented Reality Combat field goggles. These were actually a rejected idea by GGS. They tried to branch out into other places, but because people were so fixated on VR that it was hard for them to do anything that wasn't OASIS-related. So the idea was scrapped. Eventually some jackass intern took the idea with him to the Army and refined it for combat. Eventually the patent was passed over to Oakley who then mass produced them for all branches. Wanna know what makes them so special? They could identify targets effectively. It's able to detect armed and unarmed people. And wouldn't you know, Apple, Windows, Google and every other IT company wanted their mitts on the patent. Smartglasses would've been the next big thing if more people bothered to buy them. Here in the OASIS, I managed to get a similar model to the Army's ARC goggles. So once I got in the same room of the nearest Sixer, I was told of their position, their weapon and where they were aiming, as well as where I was aiming. Yes, this is how they worked in real life. It's part of the reason the US started winning most of the wars.

So once inside, I pretty much slaughtered every single Sixer in sight. I didn't even have to use the Thompson that much, since I was PKing with the Jaguar Paw. Just hold it out at an angle while hiding behind cover, wait for them to need to reload and just whack them good in the neck. It even showed their heads rolling off for a second before disintegrating.

"Major, we're boarding the Acquisitor. Where are you right now?"

"I'm at the crew quarters, the deck is about half a klick from my position."

"Roger, we're at the engine room. We powered down the engines so if they want to scuttle the ship they have to do it the old-fashioned way."

"Good. Try to find a USB port. Maybe we can get in through there."

"On it."

The barracks were taken care of with a well placed plasma grenade. I had a whole bunch with me that could corrode through the blast doors like a habanero chicken wing through a melty popsicle. Eventually I did have to use the Thompson. Simply put, I had little time to deal with the grunts IOI was sending and had to get to the Bridge pronto.

And you know what makes it extremely difficult? Talking with your dad on the phone. Luckily OASIS gear has connectivity with most devices so if someone tries to call me from a cell phone, I get notified at the corner of my POV. Once I noticed my dad was calling, I made the voice command to answer.

"Hey Pap, what's going on?"

"Hey. Uh, know uh the lady at the bottom of the stack that invites us for dinner sometimes?"

"Mrs Gilmore?"

"Yeah, she sent me dinner to work so I just thought you should know."

"Oh. Great...SON OF A BITCH!"

"Are you still on that apparato?"

"Uh...I lost track?"

"Did you even get dinner ready?"

"No, but you usually come home later in the night. I still have like two hours."

"Yeah but don't you usually take a break or something? Clean up the place or do the laundry?"

"It was already done yesterday. Plus this guy is paying me for backup on a PvP match. He's a good friend-"

"How much is he paying?"

"About 500,000 credits."

"Really...well then, just work with your friend then. Maybe he can get you more money."

"Oh come on Pap. You know it's more than just that. Besides, it's pretty much a one-time thing anyways."

"Right, right."

"Listen, I gotta go Pap. If I die now, everything, and i mean everything I've ever earned will be lost and- HEY! CAN'T A GUY TALK WITH HIS OLD MAN FOR ONE MOMENT! JESUS CHRIST! JUST CUT THE FIRE FOR A MOMENT! I'LL DEAL WITH YOU GUYS IN A SEC! Anyways, thanks for telling me, I'll see you when I do. Bye!"

It gets annoying, I know. But hey, you'll miss having an old man talking into your ear when he's gone.

Once I got to the Bridge, opening it with a kicker charge, every single Sixer in the bridge fired on me. I wasn't one to use spray and pray tactics, but it wasn't like I have a choice. Fortunately they were taken care of cleanly. Leaving just me and the Acquisitor's ID-OL. Which now that I think about it, what was IOI thinking? The whole reason they were put there are so a player can leave the ship unattended to rank up more. But these guys are ranked to the highest possible degree. And with so many troops IOI has at their disposal, you'd think they wouldn't need something so trivial. And yet, there's one just sitting there, wearing a black dress, bobcut and looking off to the destroyed fleet.

I got close to one of the consoles and found a USB port. Once in however, the ID-OL spoke.

"It's a little rude to just put something in someone's computer without asking."

"Uh...sorry?"

"Don't move. The Admiral will arrive shortly." And in one fell swoop, a squad of Sixers rappled from hidden tiles in the roof of the Bridge, guns pointed and aiming square at my head.

"Shit…"

"Admiral onboard." The Sixer troopers then stood at attention as a large, metallic avatar walked in. The number wasn't that visible, but I knew what the code was. IOI-655321, also known as the head of IOI's Oology Division.

"Nolan Sorrento... guess I should consider myself honored to be captured by you...although, I was hoping you'd have a better looking avatar."

"And I suppose yours is any better?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Look at you. Rattail, tribal-tattooed arm, light armor, baggy pants. You look like a generic anime character from the 2010s."

"You know, maybe this look was pretty common because chicks actually like it."

"What?"

"Either that or it was the easiest for women to draw in the shounen style that didn't have lanky limbs. I dunno, girls just like it."

"You... You're delusional."

"Eh…the teapot calling the kettle black." The troopers grabbed my arms and had me on my knees, cuffing me. "So uh, are we gonna discuss the conditions of surrender, or are you just gonna kill me like an animal?"

"Well, your head would look good on my wall."

"No I mean, am I gonna be killed by the animal that you are…"

That got him pissed enough to kick me in the face, or maybe he was planning that all the time. I don't know. I mean, my avatar would just lose health while I wouldn't feel a thing. I heard that since the OASIS does have a Boxing simulator, that the actually have full face masks that can simulate punches. But let's face it. Unless you do underground fight club bouts or go to promotions in Vegas you don't want to be that emersed. Getting punched (or kicked) in the face is the last thing I want.

Second to last thing I want is to be trapped in my suit. Fortunately I had a safety handsign programed that would let me get out of my position. My avatar's face would still make expressions, but my hands and the rest of my body would be free, even to unhook from the omni-positioning seat. I could just pop a can of soda and just kick back while he monologues. Of course, Sorrento caught on when I was puckering my lips sipping through a straw.

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah yeah, our efforts are futile. We're not the bad guys, you are. Yappa Yappa Yappa. Just tell me if I'm gonna die or not."

I noticed the Acquisitor's ID-OL had removed the USB and handed it to Sorrento. He of course, smashed it against the ground and stepped on it until it it was just depixelating junk. "I'll give you two options. You can either surrender your entire fleet, including your carrier, and we won't kill you. We might even offer you a position in our-"

"Okay big guy, I gotta stop you right there. One, I'm a Major, meaning I only control a task force of starfighters. I can only surrender you the pilots under my command. As for the Obama, she's under the Admiral's command."

"So tell your Admiral!"

"Two...well, I don't think I have to tell you my position about all of this." I looked up at the ceiling, neck exposed and eyes shut, ready for whatever might happen. "Go ahead. Execute me you coward...you'll only be killing an avatar…"

I guess he was pretty much confused. Guess he wanted me to beg or negotiate for my liberation. But no. Instead he got a boy ready to accept his fate. No qualms, no grudges, believing he'll reincarnate. Which he will...eventually.

"What...what is that. Is that suppose to be a reference to a movie? Or a game?"

"No, it's Che Guevara's last words you uncultured pig!"

"What?" And another painless kick to the face. At this point he had me by the collar of my armor and pulled out a lightsaber. Making someone lose patience was my specialty. "Why you little-"

"Is your brain running on fumes old man?...It's gotta be. You started lumping every single gunter in the OASIS as someone smarter than you. As someone who knows some secret you don't. I bet if I start playing a Russian folk song you'll take it as some clue to the Egg."

"What are you talking about…"

I whistled the song Korobeiniki to humor him. You know, the song used as the theme to Tetris, as in the greatest thing to come from the USSR since the Kalashnikov. "You see? I could just be whistling that because of Tetris, or because I'm a Neo-Communist sympathizer...pick your poison, comrade!"

The alarms just started wailing all of the sudden, and the screens were popping the Scoreboard for Halliday's Easter Egg hunt. And right on top, was the name of the first player to get his hands on the Copper Key. The first kid to figure out the clue left behind by Anorak.

 **HIGH SCORES:**

Parzival **10000**

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

"No fucking way... Son of a bitch did it!"

"Who! Who did it!" Sorrento shook my avatar for answers until a ghost grabbed his shoulder.

"Sir, we need to get you out of the building" His mouth spoke someone else's voice and he was forced to log out. The other Sixers had logged out too, letting me go to the ID-OL. I looted what I could from Sorrento and the other Sixers before turning to her. "So what are you doing to do?"

"Await my Admiral's return. I'll make sure the ship remains until he comes back."

"Good girl…"

It wasn't long until a familiar voice came along. "Hey Major, where the hell are you?"

"I'm at the Bridge. Sorrento and his spooks are out. What about you-"

Another player popped the glass off one of the windows of the Bridge. And hovering outside was a blonde girl in a red croptop jacket with a star on the back and boosters tied to her waist. In her left hand, an oversized energy cannon was held. "Come on!"

I took her hand and dragged me through the space outside as other starfighters kept on flying through.

"This is Mav Leader! Objective is complete! Mission accomplished!"

"Roger!"

I told the player to take me to a nearby asteroid. From what I could tell, it was some kid by the name PR1CE. I'd known her for a while now. She's pretty reckless at times, thinking more on her feet than on reasonable logic. It wouldn't surprise me if this was her third life or something.

Once we reached Athena, she attached herself behind the cockpit with a magnetic cable. "Hey PR1CE, aren't you gonna climb inside?"

"I'll watch your back, just get us out of here!"

"Okay but the shield won't keep you protected if you get shot."

"Yeah yeah…"

I got Athena in motion with the rest of the squadrons heading back to the Obama. I took up the rear with PR1CE, who started firing her cannon at pursuing starfighters. It wasn't that necessary except for her to gain some XP.

"These things are crazy to shoot."

"I know right? If this is what the IOI can send out, I say we got a better shot at the Egg."

It wasn't long until the Obama was back in view, this time in a different position to avoid a potential counterattack from the Sixers' back up. The starfighters climbed up landing on the deck of the ship. Other ships were about to blow up and the NPC crew rushed to put out the flames. Getting off, PR1CE and I headed to the briefing room. There the other starfighter pilots were chatting it up like they came back from just another sidequest in the OASIS. DanE, the pilot that 'died' earlier, was now DanEE, a Level 2 avatar. We all have backup accounts. Thing is, it's hard to level up one character, let alone two. So usually having your best avatar die means you have to start from the beginning again.

Eventually Elm and Mitchie walked in ready to tell us everything about the battle we just fought. No more secret plots, no more lies.

"Alright, listen up. We have two things to cover. One, did we succeed in our objective. MajThompson, if you could please come up to the front."

"Oooooooh! Someone's in trouble!"

"Shut up PR1CE…" I got up and walked over to the front as the screen started showing shots of the Battle of the Makrim Belt, as it is now being called. Fighters blowing up other fighters, Sixers getting turned into minced meat, your typical glory shots for compilations.

"Alright guys. Pipe down. I know, these aren't your best shots but at least you get to say you kicked Sixer ass. But first, let's give a round of applause to Vejovis for piloting the MXY-RKKV. Great job there buddy."

Everyone clapped for the kid, with ReBelle giving him a friendly punch in the shoulder. Putting away the images, I then switched to my POV recording, right after Sorrento pulled out the USB.

"As I told the Admiral, those were rubber duckies. If connected to the ports of a ship, any ship, it would hack into the system of the IOI. Once jacked in, the programming would instruct it to send us all the intel circulating between officers...however, those would just be unimportant snippets. You know, how OwOza has a bit of a thing for...adult animation, winky wink?"

"What?!" And right on cue he gets up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh relax. I just made a mental note of the images you had, looked them up online and saved them on the USBs."

"What images?!"

"The ones on tumblr."

"What?!" Yup, he was pissed.

"Anyways. You guys were just distracting Sorrento from the real hackers. The USS Perseverance crew members... while we were attacking the Sixers, they got some duckies into the IOI intranet to get whatever juicy Intel we can get. Our battle, was just a distraction. And the results…"

I opened up a file that showed most of the cameras inside the real-life IOI campus. The conference rooms, the Sixer floor, a couple of hallways, even the Acquisitor's cameras. There were also fabled training manuals with lingo and protocol, specs for the weapons the IOI were given, even a few accounts and passwords. "Jackpot, bitch!"

The whole room erupted in a cheer, glad to see the fruits of their success from this three-dimensional chess game.

"And what do we have here…" I found a file for a pitch meeting to be used earlier down the week. Probably something the guys at IOI have made. "Oh God no…" I played the clip showing what they were planning. It was the POV of a typical player in a PvP zone. The only difference is it was fully plastered with ad space. It would practically obscure a player's vision to the point of unusability.

Logically, the rest of the pilots were becoming restless and booed off the idea, popping middle fingers and throwing imaginary tomatoes. "Alright alright. Chill…you know that that you're feeling right now? That's why we exist. That is why we went through with this operation. Ur raison 'detre is to make sure this stays a gag in a YouTube Let's Play. And we might be closer now than ever... The second thing I need to bring up is this." I showed them my shot of the screens in the Acquisitor's Bridge. The Scoreboard was clear as day flashing Parzival's spot as number one. "Looks like someone finally found the first key in a toilet somewhere. Remember this name. P-A-R-Z-I-V-A-L. Parzival, it looks like an alteration of the name Percival, the one who found the Holy Grail in Arthurian Legend. As far as I know, there isn't anyone above Level 30 that has that name in the OASIS. Odds are it's some lucky ass kid. So we need to find this kid and figure out a way to get him on our side."

"Or her."

"Or her, right."

"We know what name to look for. It's best to split up and locate this player avatar to avatar and make a formal invitation. I'll deliver this information to the other ships and stations. Get some rest for now. Dismissed."

Elm watched as the pilots left out of the room. I walked out too with OwOza and Honeydew in tow. She of course took the opportunity, treating me like another horny kid she can poke fun of. "So, guess this means we get to have a little bit of fun?"

"Honeydew, I doubt we can. With the first key found, it might mean we'll be in the hunt for the key as well."

"wOza's right. We can't slack off. If some kid found it easily, then there's no telling if the IOI can find it."

She was grabbing on to my cheeks knowing very well that I wasn't gonna budge on my position. "Aww, come on sweetie! We can go to a casino, or go to one of the original Daytona Beach races, or you know, go by my place and...just relax."

"Listen Honey, you know I just see you as a coworker, right? Let's just keep it that way. Besides, I've had it before and frankly, I'm beyond that." I pulled away and walked towards Athena. "Besides, I need to get going. I still have to get dinner ready."

"Ohhkay…"

"Oyasumi."

"Oyasumi my friend…"

I got up on Athena and got ready to take off. I didn't even wait to be set for a launch tube. Instead I just hovered over the rest of the vehicles and exited through the VTOL and rotorcraft doors. Within an hour and a half, I was back at the OPS, parking Athena, and heading to the teachers lounge. I sat up in the chair and opened up an online window to check the scoreboard. Parzival went up another couple thousand points and a gate icon appeared at the side.

Once out of OASIS, I started to take off the haptic suit and back into more comfortable clothes. I put on an old T-shirt with the GGS logo on it. It was a souvenir from my time in the company. I walked out climbing down the stacks with the motorskate on my back. I started it up once I got to ground level and sped out of the area. I stopped by Wade's hideout wondering what he was doing. He was probably running around trying to crack the Egg before anyone else gets the chance to do so. I know I'd do the same.

I got out of the stacks, knowing it was probably a risky idea since it meant IOI could be tailing me. But I knew what I was doing. I stopped by an old diner that was still operating. Usually a lot of them have been closed down but this one managed to survive through drone deliveries. I was one of its few returning customers though. Another guy came in and talked to the waitress, handing her a note and some cash. She took it, and just like he came, he left.

If this is starting to sound kinda sketchy, it's because it is. When I say the word 'War' to someone, the first thing that comes to mind is people dying in battlefields, guns, fighter jets, tanks, world leaders drunk on power and insurgencies and stuff. That's not how it works anymore. With the OASIS in place on every corner of the world, it's been the sight of all sorts of wars. Sure, the Middle East and Africa are full of traditional wars. But most wars are taking place in the internet. The most notorious terror groups nowadays aren't secret armies training in the desert or deep woods. They're known for shutting down power grids, hacking and stealing from bank accounts en masse, commandeering drones mid flight and just making a mess using technology. In fact, most politicians in Congress and the White house try to avoid using the OASIS unless it's in State of the Union speeches or special announcements. They're regularly targeted and run the risk of a political scandal. That's the reason having friends in the OASIS is a rarity. You either know them from real life and know you can destroy their life if they reveal some messed up shit about you, or you keep important stuff a secret and only reveal trivial factoids about you. And yeah, I'm kind of involved.

The waitress then came with a cup of black coffee. "Some guy paid it for you."

"Thanks…"

I then pulled out my cell phone to check the news footage. Plastered on the front cover was Parzival's article. It questions whether or not another player, Art3mis, is working along with him. Probably not since he's pretty much a loner kid, even in the OASIS. Scrolling down more, I noticed another article, this one on an attack on the IOI's campus in Columbus, Ohio. It noted that a bomb went off in their Oology department, supposedly perpetrated by a group that calls themselves Blackout. They were self proclaimed 'Freedom Fighters' that the FBI classified as a terrorist group. However, they at least try to minimize the damages unlike most anarchist groups. I managed to catch wind of the attack on the IOI campus. I made a promise to not report to the authorities under two conditions. 1) they insure the protection of certain insurgents from the Perseverance, and 2) give me the heads-up on when it will take place. So, if the attack was effective, than a whole bunch of indentured workers, along with the Perseverance crew, snuck out after putting in a rubber ducky in the main computer to take in all the valuable intel. And it gave a neat little advantage in the Battle of the Makrim Field.

We were in a war, not just for control of the future of the OASIS, but for the world. Perhaps just as equally important as World War 2. And now, Parzival, a kid from Oklahoma, was tossed into the middle of it. I still don't know if Halliday blessed the kid or cursed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"HELLOOOOOO OASIS! If you're listening, then you're part of the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force! Remember! If it's not in their hands, we are winning! Oh boy, this is one IN...SANE...WEEK! Like, Jesus Christ hysteria my friends. Look, I get it. Someone finally went through the First Gate. And others are getting on the Scoreboard. But I'm pretty sure we still have real life responsibilities folks. So get it together.

"Anyhow, we got some new names on the Scoreboard. They're Daito and Shoto. Now, I talked to a friend about these guys and they're definitely working together. He doesn't exactly know them, but he is certain the names are connected. 'Cause you know, Japanese cultural clues. But I'm willing to bet they're not gonna give us a clue about the Egg. Thing is, you guys gotta understand these guys are a bit paranoid. Honestly, I don't blame them. I mean, we've had a lot of whistleblowers in the past. Steven Pentergast anyone? If I know those Sixers any better than I know Sorrento's mom, then those guys are probably hunting after these kids, rather than the Egg. I mean, why get your hands dirty when you can get someone else to do it for you?

Still, it's only a matter of time until the Sixers do catch up. So I'm gonna ask the guys currently on the Scoreboard. Parzival, Art3mis, Aech, Daito, Shoto. As a member of the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force, I would like to welcome you guys as potential leaders in our group. Now, I know it may seem like we're just another group hungry to get the money. But all of us are either people who have no interest in the money, or don't qualify for the contest. In fact, the Force began with a couple of former GGS employees and interns. All of us are simply people who care for the OASIS and what it means as an implement of society.

"Anyways, in crazier news, OASIS Public Schools just announced that it's okay to ditch, however so long as you give a 10 hour notice, does not impede student work, and it doesn't exceed the two day minimum per week limit. See, this is the kind of crap I'm talking about...right here. Students and teachers ditching class, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria…

Okay, that's all I got for now, I'll see what other updates I can get. For now, how about some Van Halen. Jump is up next. Catch you later with more."

Yep, just sitting alone, inside a modified F14, with too few students to have a day. And here I thought we were gonna walk around New York during the VJ-Day. So I just went to one of the main plazas, within the sector. Basically, it's this massive city shaped into a planet where a lot of players converge. Non-PvP, and it's where you can meet with other people to buy stuff, sell stuff, explore a bit. Pretty much what we all hoped the future was gonna look like. That was one huge miscalculation if you ask me.

So I had nothing else to do except watch as people raced to check on the Scoreboard on one of the massive screens.

 **Scoreboard:**

Parzival **110000**

Art3mis **109000**

Aech **108000**

Daito **107000**

Shoto **106000**

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

JDH 0000000

Parzival and Art3mis weren't alone on the Scoreboard anymore. Following after them was Aech, some guy Parzival knew. I remember him too. From what I heard from other teachers, he was a bit of a slacker, was talking to chicks half the time and yet was able to get his grades in order by the time he graduated. In other words, the kid was a total whizz in programming and was just bored being stuck in a classroom, even if the class was cool. He even made his own artesanal chatroom...wait, why did I use 'artesanal' to describe a chatroom?

Anyways, I don't know if Art3mis is working with Parzival, but if they are, then the kid must be having some good wet dreams. Art3mis is kinda like me when it comes to being content creators that use a lot of self deprecating humor. Only difference is, she pulls it off better than me. It's no wonder the kid has a cybercrush on her. I once did a collab with her...once. After that she called me an old geezer hiding under the mask of a 20 year old. Which isn't wrong, but damn that hurt. But we do talk once in a while, although it's really PR1CE that does most of the arrangements. Those two are like Bonnie and Clyde, or more like Bonnie and Blanche if we wanna be more accurate. Except one's a more strategy-based fighter and the other just goes in cannons blazing. PR1CE is probably begging Art3mis for a clue to the Egg.

Then there's the Daisho brothers, Daito and Shoto. Yeah, I know. They're not actually brothers, but they might as well be seeing how they're an inseparable duo. According to OwOza, the names refer to the long and short swords that samurai carry. I always thought they were katanas and wakizashis, but hey I don't speak the language so I don't know.

Like I said, I've known Parzival in real life. He's a bit of a loner with not friends outside the OASIS. Then again few people have any friends in the real world. But I knew he was probably getting swarmed left and right by clans, guilds, and eventually, the IOI.

Sayf met up with me by one of the shopping centers. She was trying to promote a new line of hijabs for Arabic women to express themselves more wildly while retaining their religion. I thought it was interesting that despite the fact they don't have to abide by the rules of Islam in game, they still do. I mean let's face it. Half the people here are Atheist, anonymity is everything, and frankly the West and Islam haven't had a good history. But I gotta hand it to them. If anyone knows how to make it look good, it's muslim women. And if there's anyone who can promote their work it's Sayf, a badass swordswoman pilot.

"So how much are you getting out of this?"

"Does it matter that much Major?"

"Kinda. I need to know if I can ask for a loan or not."

"Well, do you pay back your debts?"

"You know I do Sayf."

"Well, okay…"

I hung around with her for a while as more and more people made their purchases. Some of the girls buying the hijabs weren't even muslim. They were buying them because:

A) Why not? Let's help a gunter out!

"Thank you for helping the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force."

B) They look sooo cute!

"We have other styles if you want to see. Different colors, patterns and we do requests."

C) Some of them actually do give you an advantage in gameplay.

"We have ones with enchantments, special materials and augmentations that let you do a lot of things in PvP matches. But we got plain cotton ones if you just need it for looks."

It wasn't long until her shift was over and we could talk more freely. We ended up just taking a walk together, talking about Monty Python, Back to the Future, and a couple of terrible reboots that were made in the 2010s and 2020s. But soon she started asking about the real life. She's one of the few people that genuinely cares about people's lives. Nowadays it seems intrusive, but somehow she seems trustworthy.

"So how come you haven't been playing a lot? I haven't been able to get in contact with you in the OASIS?"

"Did you miss me?"

"Well, I was hoping you could help me get some Rungarian Cotton, but I did okay."

"Oh...sorry. I was kinda busy...My dad and I are moving."

"Really? Where to?"

"To the new land of opportunity...Mexico."

"Really?"

"Yeah. My old man's been saving up some money to buy himself some land. Now we can live off the rest of our lives just growing crops and not taking shit from anyone."

"What about your friends?"

"Well, almost all of them are here in the OASIS."

"True...but I mean friends out there in the real world."

"Barely got any. Half of the people I did consider friends are either only in the OASIS, or long dead."

"Really…What happened?"

"Korean Fallout."

"Oh right. You're one of the soldiers there."

"Yup...but don't worry. I'll make sure I can get an internet connection. We're about a few miles away from the CDA so it shouldn't be too hard."

"That's good…"

I stayed quiet wondering if I should tell her. It might put the kid in danger but if everything goes as planned, he'd be part of the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force. "Now that you mention it, I actually will miss one guy."

"Who?"

"I'll give you a hint. It starts with 'Par' and rhymes with 'serval'."

She gasped with shock and almost gave away the secret. "YOU KNOW PA-"

I put my hand on her mouth quickly. "Shhh! You want every person within the sector on our asses?"

She nodded in agreement with me and we decided to look for somewhere private. There was a park just a couple of miles away and we were able to find a nice shady tree for us to sit on. It wasn't exactly private but unless someone snuck up on us. So I placed a player detector about a 5 meter radius from us.

"Okay, here's the thing. I actually know the kid."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Then why didn't you tell us?"

"Because, there's a certain level of trust that can't be broken between two people. As far as he knows, he thinks I know him as IndyGamer. If I ask him about it in the OASIS what do you think will happen?"

"So you just lied to us?"

"No... I said I didn't know anyone above Level 30. Parzival was Level 10. He's practically a n00b."

"Unbelievable...so, do you have a plan to get him on our side?"

"Well, the old fashioned way. Inviting him over for breakfast."

"Oh... like in the old movies where the Dad invites his boss for dinner and has to tell his family to act like the American Dream?"

"Kinda...more like trying to get a clue out of him by stuffing him silly with pancakes, but the American Dream thing sounds better."

"I never really did understand the whole idea. I mean, how does a dinner at another person's house help with getting you a raise or a promotion?"

"I figured it's kind of a thing like 'Look at what i have to take care of' kind of thing and it's only a last ditch attempt. You know, white people shit. Plus meal scenes always look great in the movies."

"Oh…so what's he like, this Parzival kid?"

"He's a good kid. A little rough around the edges, kinda inexperienced in life but at least he's good natured."

"Hmmm...what do you think he'll do if he finds the Egg first?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure...I mean, he's poor so he might not know what to do with the money other than buy some merc or a place all his own. As for running the OASIS, he might just have a laissez-faire attitude."

"Well, it's certainly better than what the IOI has planned."

"Yup. Anyways, I gotta cut it short today. Gotta get everything ready for the move."

"Sure thing. Salam."

"Salam."

I had made arrangements to have a few things shipped over via snail mail. It's not like I can carry everything inside the truck. So for most of the week, dad and I have been lowering things from our part of the stacks. We had a pulley system rigged up so that we can lower things down to ground level. You know, beds, furniture, refrigerators, boxes full of valuables, you know the drill. We had most of everything ready on the truck. The few things we couldn't take with us were going to either be sold or scrapped.

I started the day off by making some pancake batter, well me and Mrs Gilmore. She was the one who knew how to cook the best. But we had practically made an entire buffet for ourselves to stuff our mouths silly with food. Soy sausage, powdered eggs, coffee and orange concentrate. It's not the breakfast I'm use to. As much as I would like to just get a bowl of cereal and just wolf it down, mom would make the best omelette. We told Wade to come down a bit earlier than usual.

We met up at Mrs Gilmore's streamliner and had chairs and a table ready just outside. In a way, we were the closest to a genuine nuclear family as we'll ever get. Mrs Gilmore was the mother, Old Benny was the Father, and Wade and I were the sons.

And right on cue, just climbing down from the stacks, was Wade Owen Watts.

"Morning, Spidey!"

"Wade, buddy."

He of course was a bit shy about things. It's pretty obvious that the nerves of finding the Egg were getting to him. "Morning guys. I didn't think Mrs G was cooking."

"Well, the boys say my cooking's pretty good. And since it's their last day in the stacks, I figured they deserve a good breakfast."

"Good…"

So he sat down. Just as planned. I sat next to the kid on the table, with Mrs Gilmore sitting across from him, and dad across from me. Mrs Gilmore was of course talking with my dad, specifically about what Mexico was like. From what I heard, it was an improvement from when my dad left. You've probably seen the news from the 1990s, and early 21st century. The drug war pretty much fucked up the country, along with the corruption and poverty that's always been around. But over the years, a massive restoration period allowed Mexico to create new industries, such as software development, hardware assembly, tourism, business, etc. They called it the Modern Mexican Restoration.

I had to explain it to Wade of course. "Last time I checked there's still a lot of violence in Mexico?"

"Well, where are you getting this information?"

"News."

"And what evidence do they have?"

"The death rate has increased."

"Did they use an unlabelled chart?"

"Yeah."

"There we go. They're just twisting the facts to make propaganda. Those stats are probably affected by suicide and only go back a decade. Little known fact, suicide is a first world problem."

"Really?"

"Yup. Pretty much IOI is being butthurt because of the Ramirez Incident." For those of you that don't know, the Ramirez Incident happened a while ago back in Avenida 64 (Ave-knee-duh Se-sen-tie Kua-tro). It was known as Mexico's new Silicon Valley where most of the company CEOs and programmers live. As for the Incident, IOI use to operate in Mexico City until they tried to arrest a guy named Diego Ramirez. Apparently some guy had moved and forgot to change his address on his OASIS account. And due to the unpopularity of IOI and a few remnants of the Drug Wars, a firefight broke out and people got killed. And on top of that, Diego Ramirez never had an OASIS account. IOI got their information wrong and faced a huge scandal in the heart of Reformed Mexico. The same thing happened in Pakistan a few years before that.

So we kept on eating until it felt like the right moment.

"So kid... you heard about the news of Parzival?"

And suddenly his eyes popped up. His secret is out. "What about him?"

"Rumor has it he's a student at our school. You know... kinda seems far-fetched but it's possible."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah... could you imagine if I accidentally flunked his ass? Like, what if he tries to take revenge on me and decides to fire me. Oh the irony!"

That should have gotten him to say something. I flunked him in Japanese since he could barely go beyond "Watashi was Weido desu."

"I don't think he would... I mean, you're an okay teacher. He probably just knew he sucked at Ja-"

And boom. He just walked right into that one. Didn't even have to try that hard. "Ja... German?"

"Oh shit no…"

"Relax old sport. Your secret's safe with me. I didn't work for IOI back then, and I won't now."

"How should I know?"

"Well, why do you think people become Sixers? Because they're desperate for money. Now look at me and Old Benny. Two dudes going to Mexico ready to live out our lives like kings, far away from any IOI spooks. Do you really think we want anything to do with them."

"Good point…"

"Besides. I knew the whole time."

"Oh…" The kid stuffed himself more with every passing second. The red blush on his face showed his embarrassment.

"So what will you do with the money?" This was my dad asking. Apparently he heard our conversation, along with Mrs Gilmore. Guess they were done with their conversation and chimed in on us.

"Are they in on it?"

"Nope, just me."

My dad was only familiar with the OASIS in that Halliday left his cash as an Easter Egg. He wasn't particularly interested. If I feel too old to go on wild goose chases, there's no way my old man would get in on it, especially in a video game. "So...if you do get the money, what're you gonna do?"

"Uh... I'm not exactly sure."

"Tell you what you should do. Invest it. Just buy some stock, some gold, some land tract, get a business started. Make sure your money is working for you."

"Um... okay."

"That being said...if you're rich and ever decide to come by Mexico, just call me and we'll have a spot for you... just be sure to pay for your ticket and room."

"Can't I just crash at your place?"

"Yeah, but you're paying. I'm not gonna run a free hotel kid."

"Oh come on Benny."

"He, he's gonna be rich. He can pay for his own place."

"Well, he's only on his way. He still needs to find the second and third keys and gates."

"Hmm…" And just like that, his interest wanes. He goes back to talking to Mrs Gilmore. I'm gonna be honest, knowing how my dad is there's something going on but I'm not willing to go there.

So back to the mission at hand. "Anyhow...you pretty much what I'm gonna ask."

"No, I'm not gonna tell you where the first key is."

"Okay, okay, I get it...although, we are gonna find the key eventually. So far I'm the only guy who knows who you are, and I understand. But let me give you some advice...keep your friends as close as possible, and get to know your enemies like your best friends."

"Right...You and uh-"

"Yup...come to think of it, you're the only one that knows about my uh...history."

"Right...what's it like?"

"Eh, not that different from major rivalries. Imagine every football quarterback trying to successfully get into the mind of Tom Brady."

"Who?"

"Nevermind...anyways, right now, odds are people are gonna come to you asking to get you into their clan. Even the Anti-Sixers. And of course, the IOI's Oology Division."

"Granted."

"And Sorrento himself is gonna try to say sweet nothings into your ear. Little bit of advice...the bastard's gonna be really fucked up."

"How so?"

"Let me put it this way. You've been tasked with looking for an Easter Egg for five goddamn years. Funding is being cut, your troops are getting fatigued, and there's a ton of clans and guilds sabotaging your efforts, both in-game and IRL. Now all of the sudden some punk kid out of nowhere finds the first clue, doing what you, with all the resources available, couldn't. How stressed out would you be…"

"I guess a little bit…"

"Right... just, promise me something if you do see him. Don't agitate him or mindfuck him. Or just, avoid the IOI at all costs. And don't do anything stupid that might end up getting you housed. Don't get me wrong, I think the US could use a Ramirez Incident. Point is I'm trying to look out for you."

"Right…" That should have gotten his conscience stirred. Call me an asshole, but when your job is to guilt-trip a kid into spilling the beans on where the first key is, call me.

"Well, the first key is on one of the LUDUS planets."

"Figured."

"And the first part is the tomb of horrors."

"Obviously."

"And you have to play the lich in a game of Joust?"

"Say what?"

"Joust the arcade game…"

"Well that's gotta be a riot."

"And the First Gate is in Middleton, Halliday's hometown recreation."

"Yeah."

"And you have to play as David Lightman in WarGames."

"What?"

"Yeah. You're basically Matthew Broderick."

"Wow...dude, that was a pretty good movie."

"Yeah…"

"I mean, goddamn...you know something like that kinda happened?"

"Huh?"

"June 3rd, 1983. The movie comes out. September 26, 1983. Five missiles were detected heading to Russia from the US. We were this close from going into World War 3, had Stanislav Petrov pressed the button. He was the one guy that took a second to think something wasn't right. Only five? America should be sending every missile available, not five. And just like that, we're saved from total annihilation. Either WarGames called it, or Petrov saw WarGames and saw this shit coming."

"Freaky..."

"Do you think Halliday felt like Oppenheimer after the thirties and put WarGames as a way of saying, 'I'm sorry'?"

"How so?"

"Well...look at where we are. A technophobic old man, a reborn Christian old woman, a veteran turned school teacher, and an orphan with a golden ticket to the chocolate factory…"

"You know we're still here, right?" Mrs Gilmore interrupted the conversation between us.

"Sorry…"

My dad's phone rang just as he started sipping his coffee. He started getting talking with the person on the other line for a short period, followed by a sighing hang up. "I have to go check the Robinson job again. They say their system keeps short circuiting."

"Oh."

"Yeah. We pretty much can't leave without the issue being fixed."

"So what now?"

"Well, it has to be fixed. Contract says if there are no issues for six months we're good. And this is day 59. Means I have to go and fix it."

"Uh Pap, if you want I can go and fix it." This was a shock, even for me. Unless I'm in a really good mood, there's no way in fucking hell I'm going to work.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I got no classes to teach and frankly I need a break from the OASIS."

"Or just don't use it."

"Then I'd be doing nothing. Besides, electricity is the one thing I can do well."

"Hmm...alright. I guess I can just wait here. What about you guache?" 'Guache' is a nickname my dad gives to any little kid. In this case, Wade.

"I still got a few classes to attend to."

"Then get moving. It's almost time."

"Right…" He then got up, chugging down the last of the concentrate in his cup. "Well, see you guys soon." And that was about the last time I saw him...well, that year. I eventually did once he got the damn prize.

"Well pap, did they say anything specifically?"

"Just that their fridge and WiFi are down."

"That's probably all I need to know…" I downed my milk and went to the truck that still had our tools. I still had my belt from when I was kid. A few pouches were changed over the years, and I honestly can't say it's the same one from when I started working with dad. It still works though. I then stuffed the tools into my backpack along with the belt and packed in a new toy I had. Dad wasn't too good with using it, but I was interested in finally using.

I finally got the heavy piece of crap on my back and got my motorskate ready. I had it on the truck in case we exhausted our gas and I had to run to the nearest gas station. Or just ride across the desert to get a natural high. Anyways, the Robinson job was across town to some of the more rundown apartments. Honestly, me and Pap were just glad to be done with it. The floors were cracking,the walls were rotting, I found a dead fish of all things in one of the closets, and just flat out it was a mess. We left it better of course but we were just miserable. Dad of course was better at hiding it. Meanwhile I was just sneezing, rashing, and pretty much whining the whole time.

So once I got there, Mr Robinson, the guy that hired us, was of course pissed off. He kept on talking to me about how it was my fault that he lost his account and was PKed in the OASIS. In this case, I took the highroad and just avoided giving a straight up apology. I didn't know what the cause was so i couldn't say it was my fault. From what i heard, he said it's been going on for a while.

"It was a bit of an annoyance at first, but now the thing won't even come back up now. I betcha five-hundred K you bit a wire or something."

"Well, let's see. I'd have to see which circuit it is first."

So the guy showed me the room and then the fuse box from where everything was wired. So once I knew the path from where to go to, and remembered the layout of the wiring, I took out a little box from my bag. Inside was a small metallic football-shaped spheroid with a few legs sticking out of it. It was what a Spider-cam, pretty much it was a walking camera that can cling to most surfaces and was even capable of carrying certain things. Before you had to either go up into the attic and see the wiring yourself, tear down a chunk of the wall, or throw a fishing line to lay down new wire. With this, it was a Godsend. Dad didn't like it, since to him it was too weak, creepy and too complicated. But for a guy like me, this was just the right tool. Once on the floor access, I got the little guy walking into the ceiling, or the upper floor, whatever your perspective is. I had it guided with a light wand and could check on it with a pair of ARC goggles I still had from the Army. Those things were pretty malleable in terms of usage. Then again a baby could program it to show you cartoons while you went on a Sunday stroll, assuming kids still do that.

So I went by outlet to outlet, pointing to the wall and ceiling to guide the little robot. Occasionally I had to get it to pull out its jaws to get it to cut through insulation, but it was pretty resilient. It didn't take long until something started to go nuts. The robot was being dragged away from the direction I pointed to. I tried to get it to paddle, but nothing. It wasn't long until I saw what it was and it got it's buddies to flash its whiskers in front.

"Holy shit!"

"What?!"

"There's rats in the walls!" The bot was then pulled into the middle of the nest, then showing the exposed wire where a piece of aluminum was crossing the wires. "Well there's your problem. The rats chewed on the wires."

"How?"

"Well, they chewed threw the wires and a piece of metal they collected for their nest short-circuited the system." I handed him the goggles so he could see the damn thing. "What the fuck!"

"Yeah. Guess someone's getting five hundred K." I pulled out a reciprocating saw and started cutting out two squares from the drywall close to the outlet boxes where the exposed wire was. I managed to get control of the spider-cam again and had it go to one of the boxes. It then took a piece of wire I tied to it and went up the walls again. I got it to dodge the nest and come out the other side of a stud. Usually there are holes for other wires to easily pass through. So I guided it in and with a bit of skill, threaded it through like a needle. After that, it was a matter of rewiring. The boxes for the outlets were redone and the circuitry was replaced against the studs. The pieces of drywall were redrilled and that's pretty much it. I could just put replaster the drywall and repaint but let's face it, I'm not getting paid enough and it's not like the repair will be permanent.

"Well, you know the usual rate by now. Plus the Five hundred K you betted on."

"Yeah yeah…"

"And yeah, I think you might wanna hire an exterminator. Those things will eat anything remotely chewable."

"Yeah yeah…you and your dad are probably just itching to get out of here..."

"Well he is. In all honesty, I'm gonna miss the US. But hey, my dad misses Mexico. That whole American Dream thing? Bullshit. He just wanted to make enough money to be rich back home."

"Hmm…" Dennis Robinson, guy in his sixties, works as a lawyer and use to be an advocate for undocumented immigrants' rights. He believed that because we were escaping poverty and violence in our home countries, caused by the CIA interference in foreign governments, that it's only right that the US provide refuge. And he kept up the good fight in the courtroom, your good ol' Phoenix Wright. Thing is, he eventually realized that some of his clients, actually were the scum that immigrants were running from in the first place. Drug dealers, sicarios, wanted men, rapists. Hey, I'm not saying all immigrants are like this. Most of them are like my old man: hardworking, respectful, and speak Broken English. But after a while, the guy just dropped out of the Law business and focused more on property management.

I got my tools back in my backpack and got my payment from Mr Robinson.

The inner parts of the city are a hell of a lot more violent than the stacks. At least there, the only thing I have to worry about is getting jumped. In the city, there's a ton more. You really had to know where you're going or else you'd get caught by the IOI for any 'infractions' on your record.

I ended having to take a more roundabout route back to the stacks. The road was pretty much full of abandoned buildings that were deemed unlivable. The thing is, they were buildings that were filled with mold, rats, cracks. Long story short, the stacks are a lot safer.

I then noticed a small swarm of drones in the distance, just hovering through the air in a slalom through the buildings. I didn't really think much of them, i mean, I should have expected those mosquitoes would be around. But these were different. Normally they send out cheap YR-87 drones, since they're more aerodynamic and fast. But these were actually XC-94s, cargo drones that are designed to deliver packages. They were flying in formation heading towards the stacks, staying close to the buildings and going through the wires overhead. It was too suspicious if you ask me. Package drones usually fly about a few feet higher. This is to avoid getting shot down by a looter. Recon drones fly about five stories high to stay away from the reach of small arms. But these were flying about three stories high. No drones ever fly that low unless they knew were gonna be dropping for fifteen seconds. But they were almost low to the ground. It didn't feel right, but I decided to follow.

Revving up the motorskate again, I followed the squadron of drones dreading each moment I noticed their course change. They were taking the same roundabout route I was. I couldn't take it anymore. The suspense was just gonna kill me. So I pulled out the M9 I had and put my ARC goggles on. I had them switched on to its original settings, and had it set for urban combat. It recognized the M9 and began displaying a prediction ray from the tip of the barrel. The drones were then shown on the goggles' display as a civilian target. With a simple "Override" command, it became a target of interest. I aimed the gun at one of the drone's rotors. Lining up the shot, I popped two of the rotors and saw it dip down. And with another shot, it smashed into the ground rolling into a trash can. I wanted to see what was inside until it exploded and blew me against the wall. And my goggles were going haywire flashing "Explosion Cooldown: 10% Acetone 90% Dynamite". The goggles could detect the chemical components of the surrounding gas so it could indicate if any gases are toxic. But that wasn't the thing that worried me. If the other mosquitoes were carrying the same cargo, then that could only mean that they were going to blow up a stack, either because they found me to get payback for Makrim, or they want to weed out the competition to the Egg.

I got on the phone to call dad on the phone, while I got back on the motorskate. Damn thing wasn't picking up while I just skipped the voicemail and just kept on dialing. But after a while I decided to ring up Mrs Gilmore. At the very least she could warn the whole stack about what was about to happen. And sure enough, she picked up. And right in the background I could hear Mexican folkloric music. And there was a piercing little voice that came once in a while that sounded like a cat choking. Or better yet, a duck. Woman must've been watching _The Three Caballeros_ with my dad. And according to the call tracking, she was jacked into the OASIS. in a SyncFlick.

"Hello?"

"Tommy?"

"Mrs Gilmore. Do you know where my dad is?"

"Oh yes. He's with Donald right now. I haven't seen your father smiling like this be-"

"You need to get out of there, right now!"

"What?"

"I can't explain it, but something huge is gonna happen! We need to tell everyone else in the stack to get out of there! The whole place is gonna-"

"AHH!" An explosion erupted as the ground shook. The Stack I called home was beginning to be consumed by an uncontrolled fireball. The connection with Mrs Gilmore got cut as the structure toppled over. The crashing down of the tons of steel echoed throughout most of the district, quickly announcing the death of every person inside.

Once I got there, I hopped off the motorskate and dug into the rubble looking for anyone I could help out. Others came in to do the same. Picking up piles of broken and bent panels to drag bodies of dead or dying people. Of course I heard people yelling left and right. Some in pain, others in horror. I kept on digging through the rubble with more people coming in to help. We weren't gonna wait for ambulances to get them out. I don't even think half of us knew each other. With each mangled, squashed, torn, pulped body that was dragged away, I was dreading the moment I find my dad.

At the corner of my ear, I was able to pick up on a small groan coming from a crushed Streamliner. I knew it had to be him. Clawing my way in, I followed the voice, knowing it had to be my father. It wasn't long until I found a hand sheltered by a haptic glove.

As soon as the ambulances and fire engines came about, people began to cart the injured to them. The ambulances were a lot bigger than thirty years ago, so as to fit more doctors and patients. They're about the size of semi-trucks with space for about twelve patients. The patients would then be raised by cranes and put in different compartments, six on each side and in two stories. They're pretty much mobile hospitals.

We finally got my dad out of the rubble and he was taken to the lower right compartment of the larger ambulance. It didn't take long until we were taken to the Hospital grounds, where in all honesty, it just went by almost too quickly. One moment I was carrying my Dad to one of the first responders, and the next they were asking me to put pressure on the wound from a passing piece of rebar when inside the truck. Before I knew it, I was in the waiting room holding on to the headset and haptic gloves my dad had on. I honestly couldn't tell how fucked up he was. I mean, Jesus Christ a rebar went through him. I already knew what the answer was gonna be.

The doctor finally came around to deliver the bad news. And how do they deliver such delicate news. "You have about ten minutes until we need the space for more patients."

I walked into the room they room they were keeping my dad in. And we'll, it wasn't a pretty sight. They had a breathing mask strapped to his face, painkillers shot into his bloodstream, bandages wrapping a huge part of his torso, bruises left and right. It's hard to even think that he was even identifiable, let alone still alive. In that moment, right there, that was when he was the most terrifying.

He opened his eyes barely, locked right onto mine. "Hi...jo."

It took a lot in me to answer, like the words were just lumping up in my throat. "Yeah?"

"Do they have that thing here...the OASIS chingadera…"

In that instant, I ran to the front desk, demanding that the attendant give me two sets of OASIS gear. I ran back with both of them and hurried to put them on him. They were specially made so that patients didn't have to get up and perform the movements. Instead it read the brain patterns of any patient so he/she could interact with the game. I still had to use conventional means.

Back in the OASIS however, I was still at school in the cockpit of Athena. I switched over to a chatroom that I made especially for me and dad. Authenticating who I was, I was then sent to a Cerro, with hills and mountains looking up at a bright blue Mexican sky.

It was meant to be Coacuyul, the patch of dirt my dad grew up in. I had managed to replicate the place with help from satellite images, a few old pictures and stories the old man told me. It took him awhile, but he made it to the chatroom in an avatar that looked exactly like him. Looking down at myself, I quickly changed into my more realistic form. Usually he thought me looking like the teenage me from 2019 was just stupid.

We then went to the house he grew up in, a brick and mortar structure with about as much space to host a keg party. He walked to the front door, opening to see a rendered version of Rocky. The little guy greeted him and of course, dad petted him. He always had a soft spot for dogs. I mean, Rocky was my dog but he played with him a lot more. Ironic that the cause of my neglect for him now has him living in another world.

I sat down next to him as we just watched a bunch of pixelated clouds slowly move by us. The way they moved was similar enough to real life that he couldn't even tell the difference. From what I could see in his avatar's face, he was moving on peacefully.

"I guess I won't make it home…"

"Yeah...Sorry."

"It's not your fault son. It just happens." He then faced me, with different eyes compared to real life. They still have the same sting somehow. "Well...I think you know what I want you to do…"

"Bury you in Mexico?"

"Yeah...I'll be with your grandparents soon...and you're mother…I'll tell her you came out alright in the end. But just promise me this…"

"What?"

"...Don't make the same mistake I did with you..."

"Um...what mistake?"

"Well, not letting you go...I was...scared, okay. I didn't think...life would turn out this way. I mean, I just wanted you to be...better than me...I wanted you to...teach you what I knew...but I guess it didn't mean much…"

"That's not true Pap. Maybe not the construction shit, but I...I did learn a lot of other stuff. And...I do have to thank you for it...I really do…"

Maybe it was just because he knew I was trying to keep him from spewing depression fuel, or it actually made him feel better, but his avatar did crack a smile. "Still...you should go see Benjamin...I'm sure he's gonna miss you somehow…"

"Umm...you do realize Rebecca put a restraining order, right?"

"But not your son…"

"Right…"

It wasn't long until I heard the beeping outside the OASIS. My hand placed itself on his own. And I'm not talking about my avatar's hand, I'm talking about my real one. It was starting to turn cold. With his pulse going down of course it would happen. Mine held it tight, like it would keep him from dying or something. But that's not how it works.

On that day, IOI unofficially declared a Clan War with the F.O.G. There was nothing separating it from other groups like the Red Blade, Laughing Coffin, Happy's Hunters or the Joystick Martyrs. They were now a red guild, no matter what the SPLC says.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I was in a hotel in Laredo TX after my dad was embalmed for transportation. Rather than take him in a deathcab, he'd rather I take the truck and carry him myself. It's cheaper, the truck has good suspension, and for him that's all that matters. Plus he's dead. It's not like he'll mind a long trip.

What he will mind is the report the investigators made on the Stack explosion. Cause: meth lab incident on an unstable structure. Mother. Fucking. Bullshit. I checked the structure every month to make sure it doesn't fall. And I handed them the video I got from the ARC goggles, showing that it was a part of a squadron of drones and that the explosion contained acetone and dynamite. Perfect for a staged sabotaged. But instead, they just fined me for destruction of private property. The IOI actually sent a corporate drone named Allen Sauft that was so clunky and mechanical it didn't even bother realizing that he was in a hospital. And to rub salt in the wound, he claims he's doing us a favor for not listing me and my father for neglect and endangerment. Look, you can destroy my home, and you can fine me for something that's completely justified. But the minute you choose to disrespect me and my father by saying it's our fault...you'd better pray I don't clock you out.

I can't really say I had it rough growing up. Sure, we lived in a ghetto. The schools were more oppressive than supportive, just child warehouses for society to keep kids in until they reach age 18. But dad made enough money to sustain the family. Even enough to just say 'Fuck my boss, we're going to the beach' on Sundays after church. (Okay he never actually said that, at least in front of the family). The only times we were ever in a good mood was when we were fishing or watching Mexican Soccer. We were huge fans. Hell, I was always rooting for the Mexican National team instead of the US National everytime they played each other. Hey, it's not my fault the US sucks at it.

And well, let's face it. Parents never fooled anyone with the whole Santa bit. He was about as real as Spongebob. ( _Spongebob Squarepants_ was a cartoon about a kitchen sponge that lived underwater in a sunken pineapple just off the coast of the Bikini Atoll, along with other sea creatures. I know it sounds stupid, but don't knock it until you try it). I knew it was my dad buying my first console, my first video games. And yeah, I thanked him for it. I knew the sacrifices he had to make to give me a decent childhood.

I didn't learn much from him in his line of work. I suck as a plumber even though I can beat _Super Mario Bros_ on one life. I can't do carpentry or masonry even though I've played _Fortnite_. And I'm probably the only person of Hispanic descent that can't screw in a lightbulb. Than again I only ever installed LEDs. And all the lightbulbs are preinstalled. But I did learn more subtle things. Never catch your boss when he's really pissed off. Calculate the amount of time you need for a job ahead of time and what tools you'll need, as well as materials. If you're going to argue with someone, have some good hard evidence or be prepared for anything they might throw back at you. Keep your promises or don't make any. I know half of this sounds like 'With great power comes great responsibility', where it only makes sense once put in practice.

I went back to the OPS to give the principal my request for leave. I told him about my situation and I was given a two week work break. He of course let me anyways. It wasn't just for the fact my father was dead. The IOI had made their move for the Key and were hunkering down on Parzival's spot. And boy were they ready for us. They put up a two-wall force field system around the entry to the Tomb of Horrors, and before I knew it, the rest of the spots were nothing but IOI numbers.

 **Scoreboard:**

Parzival **110000**

Art3mis **109000**

Aech **108000**

Daito **107000**

Shoto **106000**

IOI-655321 **105000**

IOI-643187 **105000**

IOI-621671 **105000**

IOI-678324 **105000**

IOI-637330 **105000**

And with so many Gunters, Sixers and just jackasses running around making a mockery of themselves, they had to make a copy of the Ludus planet to get back to classes. For the kids who grew up in the First World, this was just a nightmare. And for the kids that had a childhood in the Third World, this is just another Taco Tuesday.

So I flew over to the Resistance Force FOB in Ludus just resting on the flattop of a hill overlooking the Tomb of Horrors. A transmission was sent to Athena as I flew in, along with warning of locked Anti-aircraft fire. "Identify yourself."

"User: MajTom. Password: Hotel Oscar Papa Echo...let the bodies hit the floor."

"Authenticating...Landing space is available south of the base."

I got to the section of Ludus near Stadium #0571. I heard what had happened when Parzival got the First Key. Fourth Quarter, 23-26 Home. 45 seconds on the clock. Second down. Just a few yards away from a touchdown. I had made a bet with one of the teachers from 0571 that 1873 was gonna kick their asses. They were gonna go all out. 1873 for the win when suddenly, the Quarterback left the field. The 0571 Defense did the same. Next thing you know, the game was suspended, and later void. The guy considers it a won game, but I'm still not giving him the credits. Until that football is hiked, no money is gonna trade accounts.

Now the stadium was being used as PX, with the parking lot now converted into a landing strip. Once on the ground, I headed inside the main entrance with two guards posted outside. I headed to the concession stand where hopefully my friend was going to be waiting. It was days since the Siege began and the shielding on the Tomb of Horrors didn't come down yet. And if there was any chance of even remotely getting through, it had to be with this guy.

A figure in jeans, military boots and a Tetris-themed hooded jacket. His face was masked by a scarf with a red and black checkered pattern. On his back was a Kalashnikov rifle with the same Tetris pattern engraved on the body. "Are you the Major?"

"Depends who's asking."

"He's my employer for today. Said he has some business to take care of and needs my services."

This was the guy alright. "Fine. I'll take you to the base. Take this." I sent him a verification code via email so he wouldn't get kicked out of Ludus during the checkpoint. "Follow me."

I took him out of the stadium and out to the parking lot. There, San was waiting inside of an Aston Martin V8 honking at us to hurry up. Getting inside, he then floored it to get to the FOB as quickly as the car could.

"Nice car comrade. Very nice."

"It's the same one used in _The Living Daylights_. 1987."

"The old James Bond movies?"

"Yeah. Remember when secret warfare actually involved warfare?"

"Yeah...same time we would've killed this bastard."

"Oh please. I would've taken you two out with my eyes closed."

The NSA would have a field day if they ever found out I hired a Russian hacker to help me out. You know that quote by Albert Einstein that goes "I don't know how WW3 will be fought, but WW4 will be fought with sticks and stones"? Well, I wish I had a DeLorean so I could tell the 'genius' that WW3 is boring as fuck. As a kid I always imagined it was gonna be like _Red Dawn_ (1984, 2013, doesn't matter which), or _Call of Duty's Modern Warfare_ series or _Homefront_. But let's face it. Everyone is so afraid of nukes that no one wants to throw the first stone. Thank you _WarGames_ for making war suck ass...no really, thanks. Imagine Three-dimensional Chess if it was played with multiple players. There's three stages, the political, the economic, and the military.

Military:

The US is still top dog on the military stage, with only China and Russia even coming close. All they care about is making sure their nations are safe, so they won't go to war with each other. And they have similar tech like exosuits, drones and all the high-tech equipment they can use. Their focus is primarily peacemaking, collaborating to take down terrorists, hostile countries, pretty much the few remaining scum that dare threaten the scum in our countries. Of course, that's only in what we call 'Bulletspace'.

In cyberspace, World War 3 is raging not by sending nuclear bombs, but by launching viruses into each other's systems, probing into data banks, distributing misinformation, stuff that was in its infancy at my age is now a full-blown art of warfare. China is bombarding India and Thailand into submission. Iran is assaulting European nations, Japan is trying to go after South American nations, and the US is the whole world's official punching bag, and vice versa. The only time they send soldiers into bulletspace is when they know exactly where and how to attack the enemy, or the threat is too indecipherable to use cyberwarfare exclusively.

Political:

On the political stage, America is a bit smaller. The US claims to be a liberal democracy but that's just so NATO can justify it has military power. If you look at Congress, that's bullshit. The Capitol building in Washington DC is almost always empty. The Capitol building in the OASIS however, that's where the real show begins. You can walk up to your Senator, Congressman, and the President if you're lucky, and state a grievance. But in reality, they're just bots of the real deal. Glorified answering machines with preset questions and responses to make it look like they're listening to their constituents. It's uncanny how human they seem to act, getting into verbal bouts discussing policies and making catch phrases for campaigns. But the real elected politicians had already made their decisions. A lot of people still believe that Congress is divided by Democrat and Republican lines. But really, they're just useless labels. Everyone voted into Congress is either a TV, movie star or famous religious devoutest. We all blame Trump but I think Reagan was the guy who started it all. Ironic since the people that would hate the Cheddarhead in the late 2010s and early 2020s are now dominantly in power.

China is still semi-Communist despite the epidemic killing a third of their population. There was a virus that affected a majority of people and yet they still have the one-child policy. Then again, they are making waves in the economy and it seems like they have a large middle-class, even with Korean refugees running around. And Russia, well, it's just Russia. Cuba is the last 'communist' country with Fidel Castro Smirnoff as President. Although by now it's pretty much a tourist spot with 'Communism' as its selling point. Like being the same country that killed hundreds of people for not falling in line with the Revolution now sells cigars and sugar like edible Ferraris and is putting up ads calling it the #1 surfing destination. Seriously, they have luxury hotels in Havana for the 1% and everyone has finally tasted Coca-Cola. Why? They have an OASIS server...Castro-fucking-Smirnoff gave Cuba its own server, and after that, he had to 'democratize'.

Economic:

Even though the US still carries some weight, it's only thanks to the OASIS. In a hypothetical situation, say all OASIS servers shut down or if the terrorists successfully broke through the most heavily fortified base since Fort Knox, the the US would go broke and a whole matter of chaos would occur. Right behind America was Mexico, Japan, China, India and the few countries left with agrarian industries and oil reserves. The US has some good farmland left but after the Corn Syrup Famine and with the Avocado War still raging, Mexico was pulling more of the weight to become the breadbasket of the world. Plus, it's making loads of cash off its entertainment industry. Interactive novelas, new comics and cartoons, and pretty much a lot of non-OASIS products. Mint also makes its own gear and exports it worldwide, along with Toyotas, cheap microwaves and just manufacturing in general.

So we kept on comparing Nationalism Shafts in the car until we reached the checkpoint of the FOB. There a guard stopped us with two automated turrets aiming at out V8. He came over with an Identification Scanner on us. It was able to detect me and San, but the guy was labeled as unidentified.

"Username and password."

"User: unknown. Password: Kilo November Oscar Whiskey...um, shit I don't know uh. Baby?"

"Really dude?"

"Hey, I'm not that familiar with American Pop Culture."

The guard talked with someone on the other side of the comm and gave us the thumbs up. "Alright, you guys are clear. Next time, give a proper answer."

"Alright, we're in…"

There were multiple players in the central avenue of the FOB getting out of the way. They yelled out 'Car!' like they were playing ball back in 2002. There was a good mixture of magic-based and tech-based players. We had dragons and starfighters forair support as well as catapults for heavy artillery. A row of tanks from the 571st, 4737th, 1776th, 802st and 1873rd Armored Divisions were ready in case they had to roll out. Remember how I said there were many intramural sports that include fictional sports? Well, one of those happens to be Tankery (also known as Senshado, Tankwondo, Panzerfahren, etc.) It's like Track and Field where you have multiple matches that include Team-Royale, Target-the-Leader, Biathlon, Slalom, and just anything random.

It wasn't long until I met the Commanding officer on Ludus, Patton. Just like his IRL counterpart, the guy was schooled enough in the art of war that he knew every single fictional and real battle by heart. Each leader's fallacies, each root cause for victory, and nitpicks battles like crazy. Odds are in real life he was a guy with too much time in his hands, but I'm not complaining.

"Major. Glad to see you made it okay. From what I heard, IOI began their blockade a short while ago."

"Yeah but I was already inside. I got a squadron of my best pilots giving the Sixer Fleet a run for their cash...It's raining coin."

"Good. how much coin?"

I opened my inventory and placed money in one of the exchange slots. I got it from shooting down a couple of IOI transports.

"Looks like we got everything we need." He opened his inventory and took the credits. I pressed accept and an undisclosed amount. The money traded hand s a couple of times, then suddenly a merchant came by. He had a New York Drug Dealer type voice. An NPC that drives around in a truck. It's pretty hard to get those guys to come to a place. In fact, we almost had to rewrite the code on Ludus to convince one to get out of the student store and sell weapons.

"You uh, Mr Patton?"

"That's me."

"Special delivery for ya." He opened up the truck and pulled out two antimatter ICBMs. They were similar in delivery and can fit as a minuteman launch missile. It's one of those things the US Army made back in the Cold War before realizing 'You know what, this is a stupid idea' and just keep it as a novelty. But for us, it's just the type of short-range payload launcher we need.

So far we've tried everything. Nuclear Attacks (I knew that wasn't gonna work), Orbital Bombardment, RKKV Targeting, Particle Teleportation, Portal Fabrication, Time/Space Wrinkling, even digging directly to the Tomb of Horrors. And nothing. We're still outside and trying to get inside.

"So this is our master hacker...what's his name?"

"He doesn't use one in the OASIS. I just call him the Russian."

"Russian? I know I asked for a hacker but I didn't think you'd get a Russian."

"Hey, if I'm getting a hacker I'm getting the best. Even if it means getting my country's rival."

"The Cold War is long over comrade. Now we face different enemy. Of course, things where I live aren't cheap. So I'm gonna ask for my 50% deposit."

"Right…" Patton put another amount of credits in the transfer slot of his inventory and transferred it to the Russian. Once that was done, we gathered around a table with a half-assed map of the Tomb of Horrors, along with the flattop, trenches, and positions of every active player firing at Sixers outside of the barrier. "Now tell me Russian, how good are you at getting these walls down."

"Honestly, not that good. But from what I can see, I can certainly help...what if I told you I know a way to hack into an IOI Oologist account?"

Patton's eyes widened up like a kid seeing a new toy. "Can you do that?"

"Of course. However, there's a bit of a catch. We need to figure out which sector is in play."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about this. There's a total of 30,240 Sixer accounts. But do you know how many in any given location?" He showed us a map of the world with different dots marked on them.

Buenos Aires AR

Caracas VE

Los Angeles US

New York US

Columbus US

Sydney AU

Singapore SG

Seoul KR

Paris FR

0) Mumbai IND

"There's no telling how many troops they have, but they have plenty of accounts. And everytime one account dies, another one is on the ready. In order to avoid fatigue, they change shifts and swap accounts every couple hours. Right now, the Seoul-based team should be taking over."

"The Koreans?"

"That's right." He then sent an email with a blank return address. On it was an access to a couple of Sixer accounts. "These are some backups. Right now, you'll want to use these."

He highlighted four that he had available. IOI-684645, IOI-685655, IOI-687346, IOI-689340.

"We'll, I know San and I can speak Korean pretty damn well. So I guess we're taking the role of infiltrator. But what about our Key Nabbers?"

"That's something I've looked into personally Major. We've been having players grind in a few hours on Joust. So far we have four players that stand out. " He then called the players over. Vejovis, ReBelle, PR1CE, and Bicktor. And my mind is just asking, how the hell did they make it? Bicktor specifically. I mean, the bastard was completely new to the OASIS.

"Hey B."

"Uh, Hello Mister."

"So you're telling me these kids are ready when those walls come down…"

"As ready as we can get them. I've even had them memorize the script for _WarGames_."

"You spared no expense Patton...So what's the plan?"

"Simple. Since you and San are the most convincing Koreans, you two will go in and head to where the shield generator is. We'll give you ten minutes to kill the shields. No more, no less."

"Wait a minute, so what are the bombs for if they're not for the shield?"

"They're to mess with Sorrento's head. It'll make him think we can somehow always find something to get through his barrier. It's psychological warfare kids. It's how wars are fought now."

"Okay so, we launch the antimatter bombs, and the barrier 'magically' comes down. Then what?"

"We'll this is when things get interesting. We can't technically kill the Sixers, since this is a Non-PvP Zone. And from what I got out of Parzival and Art3mis, it looks like you only get one shot every day. So you guys only get one shot. So just run your way to the lich and beat the crap out of him at Joust. As to getting there in one piece, that's what San and the Major are here for."

"Right...Once the shields go down, we'll make a beeline to the lich. Any Sixers we encounter should be incapacitated."

"How?"

"Well, let's just say the former superintendent of Ludus was kind enough to give me an override code. You kids ever heard of the Montville Loophole?"

"The what?"

"Well, if you play a sport like Football, Martial Arts or Wrestling, you actually get special permission to practice a sport without it affecting your HP. Even get official paperwork from the coach and such. We call it the Montville Loophole after the school in Connecticut Ryan Fish was."

"Who?"

"Ryan Fish. The guy that had a fight club in Montville High School in Connecticut. Anyways, if you give them a good hit they'll be incapacitated for five seconds. Just run pass them as soon as San and I whack 'em. If we end up being stopped, you guys move without us."

"Okay, got it."

"Good. Let's get moving. San, you know how to get us close to the shield, right?"

"Yep."

"I'll send you the account info. Good luck comrades."

"Thanks…"

Once we had chronometers synchronized, we ran off towards the Tomb of Horrors. I followed him across the camp to one of the old tunnels leading behind a tree. It was there that we began to log into different accounts, IOI-687346 and IOI-689340. Our avatars now had the same look as the rest of the sixers: a futuristic, Naziesque uniform with our numbers printed on our chest. After going through a quick refresher course on fluent Korean and finding an incoming ship, we snuck into the shield as soon as it was let down. Within the two shields was a string of antiaircraft weapons, antimagic weapons, and pretty much anything and everything needed to fight a siege battle. In a way, I was almost hoping we'd be caught. And we almost were. A guy came up to us and in one quick look at our numbers, told us to head to the armory. They knew we were new, but not how new. I kept my mouth shut until there were no IOI nearby. I was getting the deja vu from when I was in Korea...Northern Korea.

"Hey Major...remember when we first met?"

"Yeah. We were pulling off this exact same shit in Korea."

"You guys almost got your asses killed, right?"

"You did too…You were this close to getting shot, remember?"

"Hey! I was a stupid, idealist kid back then."

"So was I. Only difference was you weren't the first I ever killed."

"Yeah yeah...how much longer until we have to get the shield down?"

A pop was heard on the shield, meaning the Tankery teams were firing upon the shield to give us the 2 minute warning. We then looked for the shield generator, just sitting in the entrance to the Tomb.

"You ready Major?"

"Yeah. I've been saving up an artifact that the Sixers will love."

"What?"

"You'll see San…"

Once a few seconds were left on our time, we switched over to our San and MajorTom accounts. We made our way towards the generator and lobbed a couple of grenades at them at almost the exact time we needed to get the shields down. An explosion was heard overhead and a few Sixers were taken in. They were spat out of course, but the bombs did their work. Now a whole flood of Sixers were filling the area.

PR1CE, ReBelle, Bicktor and Vejovis head to our location inside of a Mad-Maxian VW Type-2 Chicken Tax. Jumping out they began firing at the Sixer swarms with pastel colored rifles. PR1CE, presumably taking the leadership role, comes to San and me carrying similar rifles.

"Hey old man! What's with these things?!"

"Oh those! They're Gal Rifles!"

"What?"

"Gal Rifle. It's based on the game _Gal*Gun_ developed by Inti Creates and published by Alchemist in 2011. It's the game that ridiculed Dave Grossman due to that it was a Rail shooter, but qualified as a Bishojo game."

"In English?"

"It's an AR15 rifle based on an in-game gun about shooting girls in a school with pheromones."

"What?!"

"Just don't question it and head to the Tomb!"

We ran in, blasting the Sixers with clouds of pheromones, getting them to pass out but not zero out. This was a cleaner way to get to the center of the Tomb. Taking the quickest route, we were able to avoid the hazards and make it to the chamber where the lich was residing.

Once there, we saw how half of the Sixers playing were killed by their lich. As for the rest of them, we managed to get them subdued with the Gal rifles and got them to lose because they're AFK.

They walked up, and the lich greeted them, asking what they came for. Following the same lines of dialogue we got from Aech (the guy had loose lips. He wasn't even trying to keep it a secret from us.) soon, separate arcade cabinets manifested themselves and multiple clones of the lich appeared.

Now it was just me and San against the rest of the incoming Sixers. We put up instant barricades and set up mines before the Sixers had a chance to recover. We hijacked a couple of power generators to make a viable Klein shield.

"Well San, you know the drill. Guard the kids, shoot the pigs, get the Keys and get the hell out of dodge."

"Just like Korea?"

"Just like Korea…"

"So what's with these rifles. They're pretty gay if you ask me?"

"Well one, they're based off of _Gal*Gun_. It's a game where chicks run at you and you have to shoot them with a pheromone gun...It's a Japanese game. That's all I should tell you."

"Oh...that explains the colors."

"About that, it's not gay so long as the tips don't touch."

"The tips?"

"Yep. Just don't tap it against another gun barrel."

In just a couple of minutes, the Sixers were within range of the chamber and of course, we had the shield up at max. We altered between keeping them at bay for a while, and inviting a couple in to get slaughtered, or close to being slaughtered. It's only to keep them from using any more destructive weapons. It was like we made our own game show of sorts. Jesus Christ, Halliday would roll around in his grave if he found out an intern was involved in this way to close off the First Key.

The first one to get the key was Vejovis since he had been more studious in terms of strategies. Next was PR1CE, who was more of a reaction-based gamer. Surprisingly Bicktor came out third along with ReBelle trailing shortly behind them. And with a John Williams orchestral score, they received their Copper Keys. Yep, the kids are on their way to greatness.

"We got the Keys!"

"Great! Put them on your key chains and let's get the hell out of here!"

"How! We're almost out of bullets and the Sixers are about to break down the shield!"

"I saved the best for last…" Hopefully the Sixers would be jammed in the corridors like the Persians in Thermopylae. I reached into my inventory to check for an artifact that'll help us out. One in particular stood out for me and I was just dying to use it. I picked it and in my palm manifested a red and white sphere with a yellow lightning bolt.

Bicktor caught on to the item quickly. "Is that a PokeBall?"

"A what?"

"A PokeBall...from Pokemon."

"Oh my God you guys! How do you not know Pokemon?!"

"We've had to play 80's games to see if any of them are gonna be in the Easter Egg!"

"Well, get ready to see something real special." I was whistling the original theme to the show, just waiting as the Sixers were slowly cracking the Klein Shield. Once the generator gave out, I wound up my arm like I was an ace baseball pitcher. "Pikachu! I choose you!"

Throwing the ball, a bolt of energy flashed out of it and manifested a small, chubby yellow mouse with red-spotted cheeks sparking up. And with one loud "Pi-ka-CHUUU!" a massive electrical surge was sent through practically every corner of the catacomb. Once the lightning died down, all that was left was fainted avatars and NPCs left for us to just waltz through.

"That little thing did that?"

"Yup. Lead the way pal!"

Pikachu, the yellow electric mouse from the classic Gameboy game _Pokemon_ , lead the way out of the Tomb of Horrors. We saw as other players, F.O.G or otherwise, began to flood the area. I spoke into the comm and had the kids from the 1873rd pick us up. Once we were out out of the dirt, the kids then ran straight for the Panzer IV Ausf.D, a tank commanded by Karen_Knispel (Karen9 as a student).

"Hauptfach! Get on!" We climbed on top the rear of the Panzer IV as it rolled out of the area. The IOI ships started to fill up with Sixers and began to leave.

I spoke into the comm again, this time addressing everyone in the area. "This is MajorTom of the Anti-Sixer Resistance Force! The Gates are open for everyone! I repeat! The Gates are open! Happy Hunting!"

The Gunters were moving like marbles down the drain. With so many people heading to the Tomb, some didn't even realize we were heading the other way. Knispel had to honk the tiny horn the Panzer IV had to get them to move out of the way. They kept on moving to the side until we made it to the base. The Russian had gotten a hold to one of the IOI transports and had quickly repainted it to have the two-headed eagle. I was either hearing Katyusha or Korobeiniki in Eurobeat when I saw that.

"Jesus Christ dude! Get over it! You commies lost! Even Cuba is capitalist now!"

"It's all about style my friend! Come on! Your friends are waiting at the Lucky V!"

"Oh kay…"

"We're going to the Casino?"

"Yep...but stick to the kiddie section. I don't want you kids to get into gambling just yet. It's not like Vegas where you can waltz in with the ability to cardcount and sweep the house."

"Yeah yeah…"

I still never understood why the hell Ludus was just a planetary hop away from a casino. The Lucky V was one of the more adult parts of the OASIS. It was a gambling hall/resort/love hotel. One of many mini Las Vegases spread around. But still, it's a bit weird that the place I work in that is full of horny kids going through puberty is right next door to the place they can act on their urges. I know for a fact half these kids have...experimented. And surprisingly, the owners of the casino knew this and quietly let it slide. Supposedly there's something going on between them and the Education Board on Ludus, and that Lucky V could essentially be licensed Sex-Ed teachers. But let's face it. They're just taking advantage of them to sap whatever coin they have so they can figure out if they're straight, gay, bi, pan, etc. At least they do teach kids about STDs, what each body part does, the consequences of premarital sex, the basics of the birds and the bees, you know.

Why were we stopping here? Well, Ludus was officially a hell hole. Someone was gonna find out that you can't kill players, but you can immobilize them. The Lucky V was privately owned and controlled. Meaning no way it was gonna be easy to get to the Tomb, let alone beat the lich without interruption. I knew a ton of the kids fighting on behalf of the F.O.G, and some were well prepared for any and all confrontations, but I still worry. I kinda consider them like my own kids. Mostly because A) I'm a 40-something teenager-at-heart with his own kid he doesn't see that often, B) I didn't see my dad much given how overworked he was and it's almost the same with this generation, and C) they come to me for advice on things that I have gone through. And sometimes I don't even have the answer. How do I deal with a bully without constantly having to block him/her? How do I get a guy/chick to like me? Should I go pro or stay a casual in the OASIS? Anyways, thanks to the strict rules of conduct the Lucky V imposes, there is absolutely no way any PKing or assault can happen. And thanks to our connection with the Lucky V, we managed to make it our fallback base. It always was, but this time it was gonna go overboard.

We regrouped in the lobby and kept our identities hidden. It was a common thing there. You have people that want to either spend their money on slots, poker, blackjack, craps and other casino games, or rent a hooker/jiggalo. And it's better to keep your identity a secret in these places as much as possible.

There was a transport booth there by the lobby and that was going to be their jumping point to Middleton for the next part of the Easter Egg. "Okay guys. We got this in the bag. But first, I need to have a little chat with PR1CE."

"Say what?"

"Relax. We're just gonna go to the slots. She's just gonna observe…"

"Oh...kay…" Yeah, how weirded out would you be if one of your superiors asked you to go to a casino in secret, and the guy was male while you were female.

I had her go inside of a room with me. It was only going to be for five minutes so it's not like it was gonna cost me big. So the casino let me use it. "Alright, I need you to change your avatar into your real self."

"Huh?"

"Your real self. There's a way to make your avatar look like the real you from the future."

"I know that!...Just promise me you won't tell anyone…"

"I've kept a bunch of secrets in my life kid."

"Alright…" He popped up a control panel on his avatar's status, and so did I. He switched the gender from female to male, made his hair a bit shorter, changed his croptop to a long jacket, his shorts to jeans and well, pretty much looked a lot like me except with blonde hair. I knew the kid was born with dark hair so that was probably a stylistic choice "Name's Benji...and I'm a guy…"

"I know...wanna hear another quote from Empire Strikes Back?"

"Not..really...what's going on here? Are you gay or something?"

"If I were, you wouldn't exist...or maybe you would. I don't know for sure. You'd be surprised how many famous gays had biological kids."

I just saw his rusty little gears turning to get everything put together. And just like that his eyes popped once he figured it out. "Wait...are you?..."

"Yep...I am your father...I can't really do the voice but, it's still kinda dramatic, right?"

"You asshole! Do you have any idea how messed up this is you-you-... you're telling me you knew this whole time?"

"Kinda...I still have your email for your account since you were a kid. I just assumed you never changed it."

"Jesus Christ…" He sat on the bed looking like he was told the cake was a lie. I guess it was pretty heavy news that the guy he has only heard of from his mom was right next to him the whole time.

"Wanna hit the slot machines really quick? It'll be easier for me to talk there…"

"Alright, fuck it."

"Watch the tongue kid."

"You say it all the time!"

"Yeah, but I do it and it's badass. You do it and it's bitchy."

"That's because I was acting like a bitch."

"And you still do…"

We got to the main floor of the casino and I sat down by the Blackjack table. The way the casino worked was similar to the way a casino works in the real world. They have to be verified by the GSS Office of Stake Games to ensure that they aren't messing with the odds unfairly. Basic physics had to be preserved, the machines can't be tampered and all winnings not going into maintenance, employees or rent goes to charity. Pretty much the Japanese model of Horse-racing and Pachinko.

"So...how long have you been PR1CE?"

"For a while now."

"Okay...so, does everyone think you're a girl or only a select few?"

"Well Art3mis knows. I told her I wanted to see what being a chick was like so I've kinda been hanging out with her."

"So how's it going so far…"

"Eh, I kinda realized guys are a bunch of horndogs with short attention-spans but some are actually kinda smart. Like Bicktor."

"Right...so, how's school?"

"Eh…it's okay I guess. I'm not that good at math though."

"I could tell. Let me guess, ReBelle is the better sniper?"

"Yeah...I'm more of a reaction-based fighter…"

So I got in a few hands and kept in mind the cards that appeared. I tried to talk a little with him as I lost a few coins for a moment. I gained them back, but after a while started losing like miserable.

"Jesus Christ old man, you suck at this."

"Don't be that worried about me. Back when there was a Las Vegas the whole family would go by on our way to Denver to visit family there. Grandpa would always go into one of the casinos and wouldn't you know it, the bastard is lucky enough to get out of there with more money in his pocket."

"Well, I guess it doesn't run in the family."

"Geez…" We kept on playing Blackjack until I was almost up on my typical amount of cash I spend. I usually have a budget every time I gamble. If I ever reach my limit, I just cut my losses and move on. I knew that casinos always had ways of making back their cash even if it's not by cheating. They usually make it pretty addicting by adding confetti and fanfare when someone wins big. The whole floor announces the win and you're just showered with praise, pretty girls and gifts. All just to get you to be a frequenter.

"Alright, let's actually go to the slots."

"Aw come on honey. You might win this time." The dealer was practically begging us to stay. Probably just an act to guilt trip me into playing. I already counted the cards, and it ain't worth it.

"Nah, it's better if I just cut it here. Just the boy's watching. Don't wanna teach him bad habits."

"Okay. Have fun you two." And she winked over to Benji pressing her breasts together with her shoulders. I know for a fact that boy was blushing red while I pulled him out of there.

"So...why now old man?"

"Why now what?"

"Why do you want to talk to me now? It's because I have the Key isn-"

"SHH! You want the whole world to know who you are?"

"What? No one will care. Besides, it's the High Five that's getting all the glory."

"Okay, you wanna know why I'm talking to you now? I need you to come with me to Mexico."

"What?"

"Yeah. So I hope you got a Spanish dictionary or something with you. Because as good as Rosetta stones are they won't save your ass."

"Wait, what for?"

"One...grandpa is dead."

That got him to shut up for a moment. "Wait what?"

"Dead. Game over. Gonzo. And his last wish was that I talked with you. Get some father/son time like Kratos and Atreus. And I can't go to you because your mom put a restraining order on me...but not on you. Well, not one between you and me."

"Oh...kay, but why Mexico?"

"Old man wanted to be buried at his birthtown...And second...it's for your own good."

"How?"

"Because now the IOI is gonna be looking for you kid. They're already looking for the High Five and as soon as they find out who you are, they'll make you an offer you can't refuse."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, say...blow up your house, drag you away and if you're still breathing force you into a labor farm to look for the key?"

"Yeah right. How could they pull that off?"

"The same way they killed grandpa…"

"What?"

"Yeah. Ever heard of the Stacks?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Parzival and I lived in the same one. It's how I got the intel to head to Ludus for the first key. IOI caught wind and tried to get him to come to their side. He refused and blew up his Stack."

By now the boy realized he was in dep on some next level shit. "So he's dead now?"

"Nope...he's still alive. Just going underground. And odds are if IOI went after the High Five, it's only a matter of time until they make you the offer."

"And that connects to Mexico how?"

"The Avocado war…You do know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, it's the reason guacamole is so expensive. The US put a tariff on avocados...why do people care about that? It's just fruit."

"It's good...Never had that?"

"No."

"I'll get you some once we're in Mexico. Anyways, the reason why there's a tariff is because of the Ramirez Incident. Mexico not only placed a tariff on IOI products, but also placed serious restrictions on IOI activities in Mexico. Even urged other allied countries to placed sanctions on the US."

"So...they won't be able to get in Mexico?"

"Yup. There's a whole bunch of Red Tape. Now if you excuse me, I got a slot to play."

I looked around for a certain slot I had in mind. If it was taken, I knew I'd have to fight with the poor sap over it. But, fortunately it was empty and ready o be used. It was a _Super Mario_ themed slot machine with mushrooms, coins, fire flowers and other emblems from the franchise. I got to it counting the few coins I could expend.

"Alright, let's see what I can do." I put in the first coin, and pretty much get jackshit. Second pull, still nothing.

"Geez old man. Do you even know the odds of even landing it? Plus they probably rigged it, even if it is regula-"

"Shush!..." I looked around noticing the waitresses were starting to come around. I turn back, flipping the coin in the air, making up a fake good luck routine. "Show me the money, show me the money, show me the money!"

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up!...Boy I must have terrible luck!" I pulled the lever again and finally, I got a massive jackpot off the slot, practically cleaning up the house. "Holy crap!"

"You actually won?"

"Yeah! Apparently!" I winked at him as the waitresses came over with gifts codes, offers to stay at a room, and pretty much distract us as money poured out and grab the attention of everyone around. Yeah, these things were rigged. But if you pay attention long enough you can practically make an algorithm that tells you which slot will pay off, at which time, and to which people. A bit cold for my taste, and frankly the reason I stay away from slots, but it gave me the cash I needed. Thank you dad for passing on your luck.

Once all the commotion died down, I started to cut a portion of my earnings and put them in separate accounts. Savings, spending, utilities, funeral costs, the necessary. I then got a cut to send to Benji's account.

"Okay, I'm sending you some cash to your account. I need you to get your passport, and get a ticket on the hyperloop. I'll be at the Station waiting for you. If you leave now, you can catch the 3:35 to San Antonio and the 4:20 to Laredo."

He checked the amount of cash he had on. "You're serious about this, aren't you…"

"Well, according to the doctors you're my son. And according to grandpa, I'm his son. So naturally, he thinks we should at least try to get along as father and son."

"Right…"

"I'll call mom about it and tell her to get your things packed. Where is she?"

"She's in Havana on honeymoon with Josh."

"Who's Josh?"

"Her boyfriend…"

Okay, kid dropped a bombshell more casually than a pigeon drops one on a statue. "Wait! What?! Since when did Clarice remarry?"

"I dunno. About a year ago after her other boyfriend."

"How many relationships has that bitch been in?"

"About five with this guy…"

"Never mind then. Just get your passport, your ID, as many clothes as you can and get to Laredo Texas. You got it?"

"Okay got it."

"Good...see you in a couple of hours kid…take care."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I stopped by a charging station by the hyperloop terminal. I don't wanna say I was getting worried, but the kid should have arrived about an hour ago. Did he just take the money and run with it? Ah fuck! If Clarice taught the boy any bad habits I'm gonna find the both of them and have more than a word with them.

It's practically been ten years since I last saw the boy. At least, in the real world. In game I've been that old man that looks like a kid that's been helping him out ever since. They call his Generation the Missing Millions, people born within 2019-2040. I'm Generation Z, 1995-2018. This is because of the introduction of the OASIS to the world. Let's face it. That thing changed the world, albeit maybe not for the better.

What happened was, well shit...shit happened. The Korean Fallout left a bunch of casualties; think about 50,000 on the US. And from what the US Armed Forces got, I was KIA. And naturally, Clarice remarried. But it wasn't until later that she realized I was alive. And it was pretty awkward to have your previously dead husband meet your new husband. So she placed a restraining order on me, or rather her husband got her to place one on me. Which pretty much meant I had to go with the old man to Oklahoma. Made sense given how much those two hated each other. That was back in 2036, so Benji was about 5 or 6 when we left.

Little kids do have access to the OASIS. The only thing is that they're restricted to the Kids' Zones, the one place with no permadeath and designed to teach kids social skills. You know, leadership, courage, problem-solving, creativity, the typical crap they spat out on the Public Broadcasting Service. At the very least it was expertly made.

One of those was Halcydonia Interactive, created by Ogden and Kira Morrow. They made a bunch of free-to-play adventure games that definitely gave all the old PBS shows a run for their donation money. When I came back, he was the first guy from the old GSS team that called me. He wanted to ask me what I thought of his and Kira's little project. I told him he should make more, maybe my kid will love them. Of course, I had no idea Kira had died. She never gave birth to a kid, and it just didn't seem right to adopt a kid now that she's gone. While we're on the subject, mom died of depression a few months after they told her I was KIA. It seemed like everyone was dying while I was gone. He asked me what my kid was like, since of course he never had a boy or girl. Well 1) I thought he would've been a great father. Who doesn't want to be the child of Ogden and Kira Morrow, two of the greatest people in the world? And it's not like he could do worse than me. Because 2) I honestly had no Idea what my kid was like. I wasn't even around when he was born. I wanted to of course but I was in fucking Korea. We still keep in contact though. If he was a God in the OASIS, then that made me one of his archangels. He's lucky I don't plan on being Lucifer and try to dethrone him.

Anyhow, I'm not to sure about how he is IRL, but I can make a couple of guesses from his account, and his real life appearance. He's 16 now, and has been living with his mom (or I guess alone) somewhere in Los Angeles, California. Knowing how that place is now a burning desert with the Hollywood sign and cinema history being the only things keeping people around, I guess he probably knows a thing or two about movies. The only reason I know a lot of movies to begin with is because of the proximity I was to Hollywood. I knew who was gonna win the Oscars because the Academy watched the same movies I did and I knew a bunch of kids that wouldn't stop talking about movies. He was an indoors type, probably full Hikikomori (Japanese for shut-in) since I never saw him log out during the day, except for one time. I knew he has at least left the country once, supposedly because he got to go on a summer trip to Japan. And the reason he hung around OwOza a lot is because they've met IRL. What the hell?! They of course would talk about music, movies, video games and anime so much that the inspiration for his recent character design was almost an act of plagiarism on the character _Burakku Rokku Shuutta_ , from the song, anime and video game of the same name. And just like me, he watched the Hollywood adaptation, _Black Rock Shooter_. It's kinda like _Sucker Punch_ but it made a bit more sense. I gotta tell ya, for a group of socio-political hacks that can barely make a decent piece of passive propaganda I was pleasantly surprised. Sure they had to change a few things. The setting changed from the Tokyo area to San Francisco, the main was now Flare Waterson instead of Mato Kuroi, and a few of the other characters got canned for time constraints. But they kept the psychological elements, badass action scenes and at least kept the original song by ryo, though they did tweak it. Actually OwOza was the song curator for the movie and composer of the new version. Come to think of it maybe the kid had a hand in making it so good.

He's a reaction-based gamer, so he's perfect for shooters like _Doom_ and _Call of Duty_ and side-scrolling fighting games like _Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat_. But he's not that good at puzzle games. Chess, multi-stage adventure games, things like _God of War_ and _L.A. Noire_. He's more of a fast-paced player, too much of a risk-taker at times and always wants to take the lead. In other words, he's a loose cannon.

I decided to go to the convenience store and charging station just nearby (they're basically converted gas stations with charging cells instead of gas pumps.) The truck would take about thirty minutes to get a full battery. So I walked it buying a couple of bags of chips, some chocolate bars, good ol' Coca-Cola and pretty much anything non-alcoholic that'll kill my kidneys. I just had to show that I was a paying customer by opening an app on my smartwatch and scan it on the terminal at the entrance. All I had to do was just fill my bag and take what I need. Everything was being monitored so all you had to do was walk out and you'd be charged for whatever you took.

I walked back to the truck and put all the junk food inside, taking out my portable gear. I thought the corner of the store by the trash can would be the perfect place to jump back into the OASIS. I logged in and opened up a chatroom from where I left, the USS Obama. I made a chatroom to talk to Parzival to make sure he was alright. From what I heard he was getting use to his new place in Columbus, Ohio. We met at Coacuyul at my dad's house with Rocky walking around him. It was really the first time I ever invited anyone here. Afterall, it was a chatroom for me and my dad only. And knowing he hasn't gone outside of the US, let alone Oklahoma until now, he'd definitely find it different from the usual sci-fi and fantasy.

He walked towards me, just sitting on the porch. "Where are we?"

"Mexico, 1984. This is where my dad grew up. The theater is about 5 miles that way and good luck getting a TV signal."

He looked around seeing just how desolate it was. "This is crazy...so this is where you're going?"

"Yep…I don't know if it'll stay the same though."

"Hmm…" He fidgeted a bit wondering what I was gonna say. He knew my dad died in the explosion, and was pretty shook.

"Listen kid...I just want to know what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"What happened in the chat? What did you see. What did he say...I need to know...My son is involved in this shit."

"You have a son?" I never really told him about the boy.

"Yeah...he got a Copper Key and it's possible that they might go after him."

Sighing, he began to blab. He described the whole thing from start to finish. The fact he couldn't record his vidfeed, the tour of IOI-1, the replica of the eyesore that was the IOI HQ in Columbus, and well, how they detonated his Stack.

"Jesus Christ...so the bastard had the whole thing premeditated."

"Yeah, obviously…"

"Fuck...he's going crazy."

"I know…"

"I mean forget CEO who wants to circumvent the rules, he's full-blown Kim Jong Un crazy! You told the others right?"

"Yeah…" He was beginning to grow restless. Naturally since he's in a new place, and would rather focus on the Egg hunt.

"How's the new ID going along?"

"Pretty good."

"Alright, just don't tell anyone else or narc on me. If you do we'll both be waterboarded by the CIA's piggies."

"I know...I go by Bryce Lynch now."

"Wow. Kinda fitting since I'd definitely lynch a guy named Bryce."

"Me too…" He laughed a bit from the comment. Some dark humor is always good for the soul.

"I gotta go kid. You know. Shit to do."

"Right. Take care old man…"

"You too kid…"

I took off my headset and noticed a handgun barrel pointed at my forehead. The guy had a handkerchief covering his face and a beanie. Yup, I was being mugged.

"You know what to do…"

"Suck some cock? Because...I haven't done that since I was in college. I think I might be a little rusty-"

He cocked his gun to prove his point he wasn't joking around. "I'm talking about your phone dumbass!"

"Alright, Alright. Just calm down." I looked inside my pockets for my smartphone. I opened up my account and went into the digital wallet. "So just curious, is this for like meth or is it like...something you owe a digi-cartel, or-"

"What, are you a narc?"

"Do I look like one? I have a dead body in the car bro!"

"What?" He looked over my shoulder curiously wondering what the hell I was talking about. And that was my window for escape. I tossed my phone up and tackled the mugger. I managed to get a grip on the wrist of his firing hand got him on his back. With his neck under my arm, I should've been able to knock him out. But he got a good punch into my stomach. It normally wouldn't hurt me, but given how I had an ileal conduit, it pretty much hurt like hell. I rolled up into a ball on the ground knowing I had to get away and got behind one of the charging cells. I was almost shot in the foot with a bullet just grazing my shoe. I checked my jacket for my M9 which was still inside and loaded, waiting for me to pull it out.

And suddenly a yell was heard along with a couple of twanging guitar strings. Once I did get up, I peered over the corner of the charging cell and noticed the guy that was attacking me was now getting whacked in the head by a kid who seemed to be on the run. Faux leather jacket, torn jeans, old running sneakers, a Pink Floyd t-shirt, blonde-dyed brown hair, and a weird portable acoustic/electric guitar...this kid knows how to introduce himself.

I fired a warning shot to the ground which got the kid's attention. That did get him to stop and the guy just started crawling to the side. Poor bastard's face was beaten to a pulp. And I gotta say, part of me was both horrified by the fact he made a grown man cry in pain, and the other proud that I don't have to babysit him that much. Still, I had to draw the line somewhere. So I pointed the M9 to the first assailant. "Get the fuck out of here...I'm not in the mood to kill you but also not in the mood to call the cops…"

He got up panicked and with nothing but a trail of piss left to show he was here. I put the M9 away and leaned against the charging cell to check my stomach. Feeling it around it seemed like just an exterior bruise. The kid got closer to me, strapping the guitar back on to his backpack.

"Am I really gonna have to save your ass every time we meet?"

Really? That's the first thing you say to me after so many years? "You know most of the time I already have it handled. You just make it easier for me to be lazy…"

"Okay...so now what. I'm here."

"Well now we sneak you into Mexico." I pulled out a Mexican passport and handed it to him. It had his picture, and most of his features right. But his name was different. Instead of Benjamin Anthony Torres, it had Samuel Velasquez.

"These are fakes?"

"Well, just to get past the Wall. I still have the real ones once we get to Nuevo."

"So, why not just use the real passports?"

"It's too long of an explainer kid. It's just easier if I you just go along with it, okay?"

"Okay, fine...so where's the car?" I walked him over to the truck with a freshly charged battery cell. He just looked at it with some level of disgust. "Well that's a piece of junk."

Note to everyone: Never get me started in a way I can make an obscure reference to an old, beloved movie. Try to guess where this is from. "She'll make 75 on the interstate. 95 if the radar's down. She may not look like much but she's got it where it counts kid. Made a lot of special modifications myself. But, we're a little rushed so if you can just get on board, we'll get out of here…"

"Really old man?" He got into the passenger seat while I removed the cable from the truck. And at soon as I got inside, the truck's electric motor whirled to life and lurched forward gracefully. I set the onboard NavCom to go to a hotel on the other side of the border.

"So kid...how's your mother?"

"Eh...okay I guess…?"

"...how's school?"

"Doing okay...my teachers kinda hate me though…"

"Do you do your work?"

"Yeah...they just get pissed I don't pay attention. Call me a cheater."

"Well forget about them. As long as you get results…" Boy, was this boring. I mean, what did you expect? He was shy, I was introverted. And even in the OASIS, we were only clanmates.

Anyhow, we had already made it to the bridge to Nuevo Laredo after being quiet for a bit. I remember when the Wall was first starting to be built. Yeah yeah, racist move by Trump but the guy's dead, so let him stay dead. By the time his presidency ended in 2025, about 95% of the Wall was finished. You'd think that by the time Madame Winslow took office that the Wall will be torn down. Yet the few remaining Republicans state that the Wall should stay because illegal immigration was falling, the drug trade was less prevalent, and less Hispanics were on welfare, implying the Wall was doing its job. But that's not what was going on.

Of the few deported migrants that left the US, some of them took their kids with them. Many were bilingual teens that caused a lot of stir in Mexican high schools. Others were college students that were just a few months away from graduating. With the mentality of going to college, getting a higher education and the idea of computer sciences being the way of the future, other native-borns followed suit. A sudden reformation of the constitution making Mexico denounce political corruption, the United 2026 World Cup bringing in revenue and the cultural revolution that followed, pretty much Mexico was on its path to becoming an economic superpower, like Korea and Japan. In fact, many mediums like animation, television, music and video games were beginning to evolve in Mexico as a result. Hell, the old drug cartels went from growing opium poppies to manufacturing cheap VR gear. And with the Corn Syrup Famine hitting America like a dump truck, the Caracas Accords limiting the amount of petroleum that could be drilled, and the Halliday Invitation pushing 70% of the population to becoming hermits, Mexico had not qualms buying the Wall, especially if it'll keep IOI as far away as possible. Cheddarhead was right...Mexico did pay for it.

We arrived to the checkpoint at the bridge to Nuevo. The Wall only let a small opening to let us pass, with a weighing scale and an X-ray scanner was at the entrance to inspect the vehicle. The whole Wall, stretching almost 2,000 miles from Brownsville to San Diego, pretty much looked like one of the walls from _Attack on Titan_ , (an anime that premiered in 2013 and was about fighting man-eating giants. People theorized at some point Cheddarhead must've watched it, since his son Barron liked it.) I put the M9 inside of a biometric lockbox and passed it to Benji. "Do me a favor kid and put this behind the back, will ya?"

"Alright…" He unbuckled from his seat and wiggled his way to the covered backbed where the tool security box was. At least I was hoping he would open the tool security box.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

I turned around. "What! What happened"

"THERE'S A DEAD GUY IN HERE!"

The boy was just standing there with the casket open. My old man's eyes shut and looking well dressed in the cheapest suit I could get. "Well why the hell did you open the casket dumbass!"

"That's the casket?! I thought it was a crate or something."

"I didn't have time to buy him a proper coffin, okay? I was thinking of buying one when we got there. Just put the thing in the toolbox. The lock's busted so you should be able to open it. But first, dead old man, meet boy. Boy, meet our dead old man."

"Uh...Hi…" He closed the crate and shimmied his way back to his seat. He was practically scared shitless by the time we arrived to the scale.

"You know how Superman uses those glasses to hide his identity?"

"Yeah. Kinda stupid."

"There's actually some truth to that." I then pulled out my dad's old pair of glasses near the cup holders. "Put these on. They have the old man's prescription so you might wanna tilt them forward if you wanna see."

He put them on awkwardly as a Mexican Border Patrol officer knocked on the window on my side, pointing me to exit the truck. We got onto the catwalk on the side and headed to the information desk. I pulled out my passport and asked Benji for his. Other documents I had was my gun permits for my AR15 and M9, and my dad's death certificate and permission from the mortician to carry him. I had them altered last minute so that they would coincide with another persona I made: Manuel Velasquez, a distant cousin of Benito Torres in charge of repatriating his body.

The X-ray box sealed the truck and made a scan to detect where I had my guns, the old man, and pretty much ensure that I wasn't carrying any contraband.

"Alright Señor Velasquez. Step into the retinal scan."

I stepped forward as a blue light flashed into my iris and picked up my retina. The screen to the side showed my picture along with basic information.

 _Velasquez, Manuel_

 _6 Nov 1998_

 _Estatus (Status):_

 _Ciudadano por sangre (Citizen by blood)_

 _Sin record criminal (No criminal record)_

 _Buen credito. (Good credit)_

 _Libre para entrar (Clear to enter)_

"And that's your son, right?"

"That's correct."

"Reason for visit?"

"Family matters. Funeral for el viejo."

"Ah...where to?"

"Tlapehuala...got family there."

"And the guns?"

"One's a self-defense weapon. The other's a hunting rifle…"

"Entendido...Alright, everything seems to be in order. You can go back into your car."

I sighed of relief and nervousness. Benji was a bit more calm and took his glasses off once we were back in. I turned the motor on again just as a guard knocked on the glass again. I lowered it to speak with him.

"Hey, question. Does your kid go on the OASIS?"

I was a bit cautious about answering that question. I knew the X-ray scan would show I had basic gear on me, and knowing what generation my son was he would have one to. "Why do you ask?"

"If you're here to hide from the IOI, be careful. Even though they can't come here, they have hired bounty hunters. Just telling you in case you come across any."

"Entiendo…"

"Bueno...que la pasen bien." He stepped off and let us pass. The gates were raised up and we passed through into Nuevo Laredo. We were safely in Mexico and away from IOI.

We let the NavCom take us to a motel just passing the city center. I parked the truck taking my stuff out and locking everything inside the canopy. He kid had with him one of those hiking backpacks they use to give the Scouts for camping trips. Nowadays those things are considered relics from a time when kids actually went outside for their fill of adventure. He pulled out a new cleaner shirt and rolled up his dirty one to put it in the backpack.

I took off my shirt and put on a new one from my bag and put some casual pants on. I had to make sure the boy wasn't watching but then again I think he had the same idea. He connected a charger and connected it to an outlet to charge his phone. He then pulled out his own gear and tried to get it connected.

"He...this place has a wifi password, right?"

"I don't know if it does." I checked the welcome note the hotel left on the nightstand. It had the number for a plumber, electrician, nearby restaurants, and at the very bottom the wifi password. The code was just squiggled on with sharpie. "Right here."

He took it and powered on his gear to get back into the OASIS. I had seen what it looks from the third person to wear and use gear to get their daily dose. It was like seeing just the animation of an avatar in a blank background and dropped into the real world. A bit jarring to say the least.

It wasn't long until I got my own gear out when suddenly Benji took his off. "Uh...I think we have a problem."

"What?" He passed me his headset to see what was going on. The message read as followed:

 _Dear PR1CE,_

 _First, allow me to congratulate you on your recent accomplishments, which we at Innovative Online Industries hold in the highest regard._

 _On behalf of IOI, I wish to make you a highly lucrative business proposition, the exact details of which we can discuss in a private chatlink session. Please use the attached contact card to reach me at your earliest convenience, regardless of the day or hour._

 _Given our reputation within the gunter community, I would understand if you were hesitant to speak with me. However please be aware that if you choose not to accept our proposal, we intend to approach each of your competitors. At the very least we hope you'll do us the honor to hear our generous offer. What have you got to lose?_

 _Thank you for your attention. I look forward to seeing you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Nolan Sorrento_

 _Head of Operations_

 _Innovative Online Industries_

"So that's how you wanna play it bitch…"

"Any advice? He's spamming me the same email over and over."

"Hmm...try emailing him back. I wanna see what this bastard has."

"Fine…" He started writing a reply email using his gear. After a few moments of typing he sent the following. The letter went a bit like this:

 _Dear Mr Sorrento_

 _Thank you for the opportunity to meet with you and discuss further plans. However, I wish to make one concession._

 _I currently operate with a partner and wish to have his opinion on the matter. He could be of use given his vast knowledge of pop culture as well of strategy._

 _I look forward to the meeting and hope that we can come to a good conclusion._

 _Sincerely,_

 _PR1CE_

 _Level 34 Rogue_

I got my gear ready to make sure it could record the whole thing. Normally you couldn't record anything digitally if the settings were altered. But I made a modified headset that directly records what is shown. As in it has two cameras that records on a separate system. Anything my real eyes see, the cameras record. The craziest thing though is that just four minutes later, Sorrento sent us a reply.

 _Dear PR1CE_

 _I will allow you to bring your partner to the chatlink. Just give him the contact card that I sent you and we'll give you both the presentation._

 _See you soon._

"Looks like we got the go-ahead old man. Sending you the contact card."

"Alright...see you on the other side."

I put on my headset along with my haptic gloves and get back on board the Obama. I checked my email and found Sorrento's contact card. Guess it was about time we went into the belly of the beast.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

We manifested on top of an observation deck overlooking the vast empty space that was the universe of the OASIS. Judging by the stars and wandering planets, we were likely at the edge of the central sector. It's most likely placed on a strategic position to get anywhere in the OASIS.

A receptionist to the IOI spoke to us as we looked out. "Mr Price, Mr Tom. Welcome to Innovative Online Industries. Mr Sorrento will be here momentarily." It wasn't that long until the man of the hour came, once again wearing his Naziesque white uniform.

"Ah, PR1CE and MajTom. I knew you were allies but I never would've thought you two were this close."

He kept a wide smile like he was talking to old friends. Benji as PR1CE gulped a bit while I just stayed stonefaced looking Sorrento in the eyes. "Cut the crap Nolan. Just give us the damn proposal."

"Ah, at the very least let me give you the grand tour of the facilities. I assure you, you'll be amazed."

"I better be...by the way I like your new face. Makes you look more like Hitler's poster child."

He just chuckled it off. "You're lucky we're not in a combat zone. Or else you would've been zeroed out right now."

"Yeah right, you and what bitch…"

He moved on and took us to a ship. Apparently we were in an orbital station just above the Sixer homeworld, IOI-1. This isn't exactly a well known location to a lot of people. Some say the location changes from time to time, and others that it's too heavily protected to attack anyways. It was like Area 51. You're told that it's where aliens and shit land to share technologies with the US in exchange for test subjects for probing but in reality it's just where they test their aircraft. But I say a well placed RKKV oughta do the trick. It's just one massive Death Star waiting for a Skywalker to blow it up.

"You know pal, it's not the brightest idea to give us this kind of tour. I mean, how do you know we won't just bail on you and blab?"

"We made sure you aren't allowed to record our chatlink session."

Wow dumbass...wow. "What if I just tell people what we saw. I mean, my memory is shit but I can recall certain things."

"We'll see if you can…"

I looked around and noticed the stars still haven't changed. Maybe he was throwing me for a loop but I managed to peer out of my gear to text the coordinates of IOI-1 to the Resistance Force. I was able to shimmy my hand out of the haptic glove and make multiple texts. How many ships, how many men and just what kind of defenses. Anything I could get that would ensure we damaged the IOI to where it could not operate properly. Not even they would have a full planetary barrier strong enough to withstand an RKKV.

We glided gently into the IOI Operations Complex, that one eyesore of a building that was in the middle of the planet and replica of the real one. A helipad waited for us right on top of the O for "Oh-my-God-how-is-this-piece-of-shit-still-standing-after-so-many-drone-bombings"?

"What do you think? Pretty interesting stuff, right PR1CE?"

"It's okay I guess. Not really a fan of the chrome color."

We follow him in into the building and went to the 106th of the building. The guys stood at attention and saluted him as they pass him. I don't know, but I'm pretty sure he and the other IOI bastards got a complex or something because not even the US Military is this anal on formalities.

"Wait, so are we actually inside the real IOI Complex in Columbus?"

"That's right PR1CE. In fact, you're being projected as a hologram inside the building." I noticed the various projectors making a 3D image of us. "What do you think?"

"Eh, I've seen better. I think Kimoto's holographic has a more crisp form."

"How much do these cost?"

"We plan on rolling them out for the public at $2000 a piece.

"Dude, you're gonna get smoked. Mint makes cheaper ones than Kimoto and those are just 1699."

"We've diverted most of our attention towards the Egg Hunt. You can understand, right?"

"I dunno dude. Although I will say you have a pretty heavy pair for sinking with the ship."

"Thank you Tom…"

We passed by the lot of Oologists and finally arrived to his office. Two chairs were set for us as the guy sat down like it was the Appomattox Courthouse and I was about to officially surrender.

"Now here comes my favorite part." He sits down in his chair ready to make his offer. "We want you…" Points to PR1CE. "...to become part of our team. You'll be given everything you need. Ships, equipment, money, artifacts. All if you become our consultant. Imagine putting 'Chief Oologist' on your resume...sounds cool, right?"

"Kinda...what's my pay?"

"Two million dollars a year, and a one million dollar bonus on sign up. And a twenty-five million dollar bonus."

I butt in. "Wow...what is that? Uh...more than twenty-eight million? And a million a year...We could find the next clue and not inform you about if for years and become rich asses. How are you not gonna go bankrupt?"

"Simple. The only priority is that you have to live here...in Columbus Ohio."

"Ooooooh…" I hiss a bit.

"Something wrong Tom?"

"Yeah, that's kind of a deal breaker. At least for me. You see, I'm currently going to Mexico. I got a land deal going on and I need to go there fast."

"You can sell it later."

"An avocado farm? No thanks bro, not gonna sell that. You might see monetary value in everything, I see more."

"Right...well, the offer is only for your son here."

My eyes popped out in surprise. But remembered that he could figure out the identity of avatars. "Son of who?"

"Yours."

"No I mean, how did you know PR1CE is a guy?"

"A few clues. But let's just say the School System has a few loose lips...and I found an old friend." He then showed us our real faces. "Benjamin Anthony Torres. Lives in Los Angeles California. And his father...Tomas Diego Torres. Location unknown, but sends alimony to Clarice after a certain...Incident."

"What incident?"

"Now Benjamin. Do you know why your mother has a restraining order on your father?"

He then pulled out a video clip from one of my buddies from a couple of years ago. This was a bit before my deployment into Korea but the kid didn't know. I had beaten the guy black and blue and Clarice had tried to pull me away. I had hit her in my drunken whirl while the guys were trying to separate me from the douche.

"What the hell?"

"Hey! That was years ago okay?"

"Oh this is just the tip of the iceberg…" He then pulled out a recording of one of the news clips during the Iki Catalyst. A dubbed news report from the NHK played showing a shook reporter trying to contain her emotions as a mushroom cloud emerged from the sky.

"North Korea has recently launched a nuclear warhead into Iki, an island within the Nagasaki prefecture. An estimated 28,000 people have been killed in the attack and more are expected to be missing. The US has stated that they will take action and have responded with an orbital bombing of North Korea, and just as the KPLA crossed the DMZ. It appears both nations are at war once more."

"What about it?"

"What if I told you your father helped instigate a massacre of thousands?"

Oh shit no… "What are you talking about? I know he's been in the Army. Of course he's...killed…."

He pulled out a few paper files from his desk. "Now tell me, have any of you heard of Operation Dollhouse?"

Oh shit. No no no no no no. "That's a classified mission!"

"What's classified?"

"The operation that instigated the Second Korean War…" He showed the documents explaining the purpose of the operation. On one was the list of operatives sent into the region prior to the Iki Catalyst. One name was highlighted.

LT TORRES

"Look familiar?"

Oh shit.

"The operation was meant to misinform the North Korean populace and have them distrust the current regime. In fact, they used OASIS recordings and voice modulator to make gems like this." He then showed us a bunch of holographic screens with different recordings of Kim Jong Un, the North Korean Leader. One calling to arms the citizenry of the country, another telling them to wait for orders, others to report to a specific base, another to find a group of Americans. Overall, it was a fuckton of mixed messages, all sent on the same day at the same time. "The plan was to get the North to make the first move. In fact, the guy had no idea until it was too late. He lost complete control of his own subjects...and spent the rest of the war hiding in a bunker and taking the blame for something he didn't order…"

"He brought it on himself." I rebutted. "If he lost control of his people it's because they were asking for basics the Leader has failed to provide…"

"That may be true...but how about this?" He then played a recording of the 'Dear Leader' making a voice radio transmission to a submarine hidden in the waves. It was calling for the attack on a certain Japanese island in order to 'establish a beachhead on the Japanese mainland.' "Crazy thing is, you didn't make the program for this did you Tom…"

"Not particularly…"

"Instead you got a third party to use sample recordings to make a type of...what do the Japanese call it? A Vocatron?"

He caught me. He fucking caught me man. "Vocaloid dumbass…"

"Right...you got in contact with a programmer and got him to send you a code to create the first artificial political figurehead. And who exactly did you hire?"

Fuck... "Rentaro Fujiwara. A programmer under Crypton."

"Right...if I'm not mistaken he took his life after figuring out what his program was used for."

"So you're telling me…" PR1CE's facial features went blank showing he took off his gear. I took off my gear and looked around for him. I didn't have to peek out that much to notice Benji was gradually stepping away. I don't blame him for it.

"Look, it was a long time ago. The people have moved on. Iki is rebuilt. What does any of that matter?"

"Well, imagine having all this information leaked out. It's technically declassified but...someone in Congress did let these fall into our hands. And if they get out...imagine the huge bounty in your head."

I just lost it. That's it. My shit's AWOL. I slapped the desk in his office pissed off, more red than Darth Maul. "THEN TELL THEM ABOUT THE FACT YOU KILLED INNOCENTS WITH NO RESULTS! WHAT ABOUT THAT FUCKER!"

He stared with a heavy bead on me. "What are you talking about?"

"February 14th 2045, an explosion killed 80 people and injured 205 more. Recordings show a small fleet of IOI drones carrying explosives were found headed that way prior to the explosion. I can give you the recording if you want asshole. You currently hold the record for most people killed on Valentine's Day, followed by Nikolas Cruz and Chicago's North Side Gang."

He just stood smugly like he had a good rebuttal. And fuck, it actually was. "Are you sure it was our doing? Afterall, it could be a group of random terrorists." With a sly wink, he tipped off the idea that he knew what he was doing. Everyone subconsciously might know it was IOI. There's no fooling human instinct. But there definitely wasn't any hard evidence to doesn't mean I couldn't raise suspicion though.

"You're right. For all we know it's some other clan trying to get to Parzival. Poor kid, y'know? Never met his father, his mom left him with a bitch of an aunt and an ass of an uncle-in-law...and now he's on the run for his life."

His eyes popped as he stood up beading on me. "WHAT!"

"Yeah. The bastard survived. But why do you care? He is your rival but he's not your only rival…unless, you know something the rest of the world should." Finally. The guy was practically sweating bullets. "He's told everyone else to just ignore anything coming from IOI. He has nothing to gain from parroting what all others have said over the years. So I guess you're okay. But what does Parzival gain from that? The only thing that stands to reason to tell anyone that IOI has gone PKing IRL is if...it really is going on." Bingo. Son of a bitch was whiter than Casper. But, he had a rebuttal for that too.

"You know...20,000 is a lot more than 80."

"That's it." PR1CE finally spoke. "All of this is going nowhere fast. Look, I'm not gonna go with you guys. I'm gonna find the Egg, and not with your guy's help. And the first thing I'll do is make you guys suck it and get out of the servers."

"Child, you do realize it would be illegal for you to do so."

"Put that on Twitter pal. Gregarious Games is a private company. Banning someone on their platform like IOI would be at best regulation and at worst censorship."

"Look Sorrento, we appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid we made you waste your time."

"Not at all…I guess it just means I have to turn in an old friend." He then played footage of the explosion that happened during the Battle of Makrim. We caught your friends from the attack the day Parzival found the First Key. And one of them, told me you were behind the coordination. That was a huge loss for us. Damage control, indentureds out running loose, an we can barely operate on full capacity."

"Sorry to hear that...Now, I have a bit of a proposition." He should me and Benji a live feed of a bunch of IOI gooks in full riot equipment riding inside of a personnel vehicle. "You're in Nuevo right now, right?"

"You can tell by the transmission, right?"

"Yes. We have a warrant for your arrest right now. But, if you both join us we're willing to let it slide, and keep the current offer."

"And if we don't?"

"Well child, then that means daddy goes to jail, and you get to work for us to pay off his debts. A few more cockroaches less off the streets."

"Okay….wow. You're not the Nolan I remembered. If he were here, he would've punched you and called you out for the Nazi you are."

"That was a long time ago...tell me Ben..do you think daddy should go to jail?"

PR1CE stared down at the floor as if pondering what his next move should be. In the end, he responded. "How about a third option...there's a Music Festival going on in Guadalajara that I've been jonesin' to go to. If you can catch me and my old man before we get there...then we'll go with you. If not, then you need to step the fuck back and let us go…"

He just laugh the idea off. "Do you think we're playing games here?"

"Dude, you're playing a game right freakin' now! And we know you still send your goons into Mexico. They just need a permit from the Nuevo Police Department."

"And you think we don't have it?"

"No. I'm just wondering if your goons can even match my dad in a real life race."

Okay, I still have no idea whether the boy was just being cocky or trying to find some way to get Sorrento off our asses.

"Alright. Only means we get to have a bit more 'fun when we catch you. I hope to see you in court soon Tommy."

"You're kinda forgetting one thing though...WHAT THE HECK IS THAT!" I noticed a brightening flash coming from a distance just as a bunch of RKKVs crashes into IOI-1. It started to shake the ground around the building, creating a superquake that would make the whole Western Coast piss themselves in fear. And in that instant, the transmission ended with just a line of text saying 'Chatlink Ended'. The ARF did its job.

But we had more to worry about as I heard IOI personnel transports arriving to the motel parking lot. There were three cars in total getting ready to surround the whole building. They were not gonna let us leave. I put my gear on and logged out of the OASIS manually, back to the home setting. I then had it link up with the truck remotely.

"Benji, get to the fridge and find any alcohol in glass, tear up some cloth and tie it at the necks see if you can find a lighter."

"O-Okay!"

I didn't have the M9 with me at the moment. It was still in the truck inside of the safebox. Dumbass, right now would be the perfect time to have it. Instead we had to make homemade molotov cocktails while I connected to the truck. According to the gear, it was like I was sitting inside the driver's seat. In fact, I could see the 'Credit and Collections Division' just ignoring the truck thinking I may have robbed it and didn't care that I might go back for it. Just as we were finishing a few, they bumped the door hard to get me to come out. The windows were barred so that was gonna take a while to cut out with power scissors. Benji found an old Bic lighter with a little bit of butane left.

"Benji, hide in the closet and don't come out until I give you the signal."

"What's the signal?"

"Trust me, you'll know…"

He got inside the closet and had the molotovs ready to be lit. I got the control for the truck and had the throttle ready to just gun it. The gooks ran in, armored up like they were capturing the next Osama Bin Laden. It just so happens that the guy in charge of taking me in was Allen Sauft. Oh boy, what a small world. Two of the troopers backed him up as they cuffed me.

"Mr Tomas Torres, you are under arrest for property damage, acts of terrorism against Innovative Online Industries, and the attempted murder of Wade Watts. You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

"Then I got one question...WHAT THE HECK IS THAT!"

The truck had beeped as it started barreling towards the room we were all in. It made one trooper turn around and freak out. I tossed myself into the guard with the keys and grabbed them to get out, pushing us both to the ground. Benji opened up the closet door and started throwing mini bottles and smashing them against the helmet of the other trooper. His head started burning up as he ran out screaming, blocked out by the truck a bit. I grabbed the submachine gun he dropped and Benji went after his traveler's guitar. We went out with lit molotovs and squeezed our way into the truck now parked right in front of the door. The others were scrambling to get to the personnel transports as the truck started to drive off with us inside. I tried to get to the driver's seat and had the NavCom set to get us out of Nuevo the shortest route possible.

"Okay, you saw that, right?"

"Yeah, they fell for that twice. Like, are they really that stupid?"

"I dunno kid, let's just get the fuck out of dodge!"

I took off my OASIS gear and turned off the NavCom to regain full control of the truck. I looked back and spotted the lights on the transports as they got closer. The three trucks had become five, and were chasing after me like snakes on a lizard. "Boy, hold on for dear life! Old man, try not to wake up!"

I immediately gunned it and headed into the left lane. I knew I was gonna put people in danger with this strategy, but they were ready to kill half the town anyways just to get me. Why not have their own lives on the line too?

"What the hell old man!"

I pulled into one of the alleys and started to pop in and out of the suburbs. There were plenty of cars now trying to corner me into a dead end, hopping from street to street like they were hunting for a white rabbit. But they had no idea what they were looking for.

I parked by a house and got out, heading into the back and searching for a five-gallon bucket. I headed to the side of the house and found a faucet. I opened it and started collecting water. Benji ran after me wondering if I just lost my mind. "Okay, what the hell are you doing?"

I shushed him. "Keep it down. You want the whole neighborhood to know they're looking for us? Go look for a cup and help me splash this on the truck. Hurry."

He got some of the cups I had lying around from the old man drinking so much coffee. We dipped them in the bucket and we started splashing the car. I started turning from white to blue almost as soon as it got wet. You know those old _Hot Wheels_ toy cars that had a color changing effect when splashed with hot or cold water? Turns out it's because of something called thermochromism, which basically means that certain chemical bonds are formed at certain temperatures and thus make different colors, like _Magic Markers_ or pH indicators. Anyways, I found a paint that works for this stuff and coated it on the truck so dad and I could dodge inspectors and police easily.

"Looks like were sleeping in the back tonight. Jump in."

We both got in tossing the only bags we had to carry with us. I got in with the rifle and popped open the safety box. I had the M9 ready and laid down on one side of the old man's box. Benji laid down on the other side and we both placed our bags as pillows. An IOI personnel transport passed by and completely ignored us, thinking we were just another car in the neighborhood.

"Geez…this is one way to have a guys' night out."

"Yep…"

"Just a you...me...and the old man right here." I tapped the box jokingly where dad was.

"Do you always make morbid jokes like this?"

"It helps keep the depression away…"

"Right…" He rolled around trying to get comfortable but careful not to shake the truck's suspension too much. Another transport came by and missed us completely. "Get some shuteye kid. We're leaving at 0300…"

"Got it…"

We just stayed quiet for a bit, just alone, with nothing but empty passing thoughts going through our heads. You know how freaky that gets? Especially with a literal dead man right next to you.

"Hey...dad?"

"Yeah?"

"What was grandpa like?"

Aw shit, what do I say? "I dunno. Ask him yourself?"

"Okay...hey grandpa? Uh...what was dad like growing up?" Aw shit kid, should you really ask? You just know that even though things were different back then, they probably weren't than different from now. Alright, fuck it. I told him to play the game so let's play. "Know Spanish?"

"Only a little. I took it as a language elective. I'm still a bit rough around the edges though…"

"Okay...need me to translate for you? Because, the old man is still crap on English."

"Yeah…"

"Okay...he says I use to be a perpetual five-year-old. Scratch that, I still am."

"Right…"

"But hey, at least I come through when it counts."

"Okay…"

"Next question: How come I've never seen your avatar in the OASIS?"

"That's because he's not a huge fan of the OASIS. He never really had an interest in video games...or social media."

"How come?"

"Eh, he's seen how people just get sucked into stuff like that. And he's already got booze for that so why have another addiction."

"Oh...mom said she's surprised they let grandpa get a license...she kept on calling dad a bastard and you an old drunk."

Wow that bitch knows how to sting at people. I hope she enjoyed the 'Communist Paradise'. Fuck you Cuba. "Well, she's not completely wrong. But then again those two were always at odds. I mean, she didn't really do a lot of cooking or cleaning...I'm not one of those old-fashioned types, but-"

"Yeah, I get it…Usually she ends up hiring a babysitter and goes off on a date or something. She always tries to get some rich guy. An actor or one of those business types."

"That's your mom alright…"

"Yeah...by the way, grandpa...what's Mexico like? At least the part we're going to."

"Hmmm...well, I think you'll find out in the morning. From what I remember as a kid, it's not that bad…"

"Alright…"

And that's pretty much it. I had no clue what Benji said after that, or if he even talked, but my eyes just closed and waited for the moment my alarm would just interrupt my dream. Which honestly sucks, because it was a good one. I was one where there were just four of us, Grandpa Tomas, dad, me and Benji, just sitting on a boat at the edge of the river, tossing nets into the water, trying to catch some fish. Just fishing...that's it. No talking, no noise. Just four guys without any care in the world except filling their stomachs with as much fish they can catch.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

We woke up on the dot and got out of Laredo by taking an old dirt path. After a couple of hours we got back on the main road and passed by a small town just outside of Monterrey. We passed by a small store to get something to eat while on the road. Unlike the convenience store back in Laredo, this one was a traditional store with a cashier up front. We grabbed some snack bread, bowls of corn flakes, milk and some frozen berries. Instead of paying with my phone, I had to use cash, since the place didn't have any electronics other than the fridge, lighting and fan. That was kinda new to Benji, from what I could tell when I bought everything. What do you expect when your idea of buying stuff is ordering it online with ingame currency and having it delivered to your home?

The rest of the town was like this. Sure, some people had a wireless connection but it was maybe certain people with enough cash on them. People in rural places tend to only use electricity for the bare necessities and default to radio and television for entertainment and information.

We sat down and opened our cereal bowls, pouring our milk and stirring it up a bit with plastic spoons. We had similar habits apparently. Sitting crosslegged on the curve, holding our bowls like Japanese rice bowls, and heads just tilted at a forty-five degree angle.

"So, where exactly are we gonna go through? I mean, IOI is probably setting up checkpoints as we speak."

"Easy...we'll go off-road." I pulled out a map from my jacket, showing a few more etched roads not paved during the restoration.

"What are these?"

"Urban roads. They're part of a smuggler's route, back when drug runners use to pass through to deliver opioids, marijuana and coke to the US."

"Really?"

"Yep. Nowadays it's a route used by gear haulers to sneak in Mint haptics. With the embargo going on, they're a lot more expensive than before Halliday's Invitation."

"How? Ten percent more?"

"Try fifty…Speaking of which, what brand do you use?"

"Uh, mostly Okagami and Dinatro. I had a treadmill back home too."

"Okay. I guess you can use my gear if you want. If IOI even tries to trace us they'll be hit with a virus more killer than ebola."

"For reals?"

"Yup. Now come on. We should get moving...If we make it to Guadalajara intact, we'll be gravy."

We then drove on without much delay. The journey was going to take us through the brushy countryside of Zacatecas. It was full of hills and flatlands, typical of Mexico. It kinda looks like one of those old Vaquero or Narco films.

At first we spent most of the trip just looking out the window. He was sitting in the back with the Old Man, strumming the traveler's guitar he had. I couldn't hear it all that well, but I guess he was pretty good. I listened for any songs he were playing. Mostly _Rush_ and _Van Halen_ stuff, along with the good one hit wonders. At one point I thought I heard him play a Justin Bieber song...a fucking Bieber song. I swear, I'm getting sick and tired of that little douchebag. Just let him stay dead already.

"Hey uh, what's that song?"

"That? Well, I kinda decided to write my own song but...I dunno."

"Get out of town. I didn't know you did anything creative."

"Well…"

"So is it just a melody or are you gonna put lyrics?"

"Well, kinda. I want to find a good melody first before getting lyrics….What do you think?"

"Well, the melody sounds a bit too much like Justin Bieber's _Baby_."

"FUCK!" He smacked himself on the head hard. Kid must not like Justin Bieber that much either.

"I just said it sounds like it. I think it's good. A work in progress, but good."

"I was kinda hoping for something more original..."

"Well, just keep trying. Besides, nothing exists in a vacuum so some inspiration is okay."

He went back to strumming for a while and, I couldn't tell for sure but he basically tried making a new song from scratch. After listening for an hour or two, I decided to pop in one of the Old Man's playlists. I wasn't that big of a fan in my dad's music. Mostly it consisted of cumbia songs. You know, those songs that have some kind of base that goes doo...Doo! DOO doo... Doo! DOO! Doo… Seriously, that shit puts me to sleep. Anytime mom met my friends' moms, she usually ends up taking me to one of their birthday parties or something. If not, it's one of my dad's construction partners'. Now, normally these things tend to be pretty small, as in they go on until 3AM if they're on the weekends. And they play that shit so much that me and other kids my age were just holing ourselves in someone's room either watching a movie, or playing a video game. Usually it was _Mario Kart_ , an FPS like _Call of Duty_ or _Battlefield_ (the good one's like _Bad Company_ or _Black Ops 2_ ), or whatever's on late at night. Then again that's probably how it was in other places. All the adults are out in the patio, drinking and dancing, while the kids were up watching TV or playing until the cops come to tell them to shut it all down.

Eventually a certain song came out, kinda killing the usually cheesy peppy vibe. It was that one song called 'Jaula de Oro' or 'Golden Cage'. It was the song about the melancholic life of an immigrant coming illegally to the US after ten years. You know, back when they use to come for work and a better life. Back then it would be so fucking sad, like seeing a chewed up kitten on the streets drinking dirty water. But now, it just seems so short sighted. There's this one speaking line in the interlude between a father and son.

Hey son, would you like it if we went back to live in Mexico?

"Whatcha talkin' about Dad? I don't wanna go back to Mexico...no way Dad."

If the band got together (a few of them as zombies) and wrote the sequel song, I bet it's gonna be the kid, grown up after twenty or thirty years, now going to Mexico with his father's coffin and his own kid. He'd try to explain what life in Mexico is like, only to realize the tables have turned and now he's the foreigner in his fatherland. I think the boy actually snorted when he heard the line, but it's probably in my head.

"Who was that?"

"That? Oh...Tigres del Norte. It's an old band from the early 2000s. But I think they started in the late 80s or something. I'm not sure."

"They sound pretty good."

"Great. You're gonna hear a lot of that in Mexico…"

I then swapped out the playlist for one of my own. It was really the same as my radio playlist for my channel. Some of them were added in by and I'm just getting use to hearing them more.

"Hey kid, how familiar are you with music theory?"

"Um, I know how to hear notes and play sheet music."

"That works for me." I turned off the playlist and turned to the kid. "Alright Benji, think you can play something for me and the Old Man?"

"Probably...how's Proclaimers sound?"

"If you're talking about 500 miles...then play that shit."

He started to strum the guitar a bit to get the basic rhythm, and as soon as I got the song playing he began matching the notes pretty well. After a while, we both kinda started singing out loud. I mean, it's the Proclaimers' one good song. It's so freaking catchy. I want to dare someone not to sing while listening to this.

But that little moment was short lived once a couple of blips began appearing in the rearview. I swerved the car to the right before an explosion was heard. So much for Benji's session.

"What was that?"

"A kamikaze swarm drone. I thought those things were exclusive to the US military. Kid, are you better at driving or shooting?"

"Huh?"

"Just pick one kid!"

"Uh, drive!"

"Okay! Grab the wheel!"

"What the hell?!"

I undid the seat belt and swung to the cargo access. Benji dove for the wheel and buckled into the seat quickly, swerving a little. I then open up the safety box and pull out the AR-15 I had. "Okay kid! Here's the deal! Keep an eye on the short range radar, dodge the drones, and I'll take care of the rest. Got it?!"

"Y-Yeah!"

Once primed I got next to the old man's box and patted it for good luck. "Hold on tight pap, it's gonna get rough." I put on my ARC goggles and look out. The sky had a few drones flying around, but they were being sent out by a formation of SUVs. It wasn't too hard to tell they were mercs. How they managed to find the truck I have no idea.

I started to snipe off a couple of the incoming drones, hoping that maybe they'll give away the chase if they run out. But they were coming in by the dozens. And with the boy swerving around so much, I had only a few downed drones while they were sending out a whole bunch more. It wasn't a strategy I could work with. So we were gonna have to go full Afghanistan for us to make it out alive.

"Boy! I got an idea. It's a longshot but it might work."

"Uh...could you try saying that in a different way?"

"Just gun it straight. I'll take care of the drones. Then slow down just a little bit…"

"But then they'll catch up!"

"That's where I need them!"

He pushed the pedal down and we started going straight reaching maybe about 120 mph. The drones were almost in a single line trying to catch up. Some even blew up by crashing with each other. "Hit the brakes!"

Our deceleration was drastic enough to make the drones overshoot their target. They were two-phase drones, meaning they'd lock onto their target first, then using either infrared or radar guidance to hit its target, as well as prediction software. In this case, it assumed we were going to follow the same path on the same speed, so it could use up the rocket fuel it had. But Benji braked hard enough so that even the small adjustments in the second phase wouldn't let it hit us.

Once the smoke cleared, we were within a few feet of the SUVs, so close in fact that I could see the drivers. I reloaded the AR-15 and aimed for the steering wheel of one of the vehicles. The first one veered to the right and collided with the one to it's left. It lead to other vehicles colliding with each other in a massive chain reaction. I don't know if they're just stupid or I was just lucky. One vehicle remained following close by as it started sniping at us. The glass was smashed out as bullets flew by making the backbed littered with small pieces of crackling glass. If there's one thing I've always hated, is broken glass.

"Shit! Kid! Ram into the car!"

"What?!"

"I'll watch your six! Just knock them at their rear tires and get then in a spin! And keep your head down!" I head to the passenger seat of the truck and keep my eye on the other car, firing at us and cracking the windshield. I returned fire and hit the front tires without much affect. Of course they wouldn't work, they're using airless tires. I could shoot those all day and they'd still be rolling. Instead I aimed for the bolt connecting the tire to the axle as Benji lined up with the rear. I shot the steering wheel repeatedly as to keep them from controlling the vehicle. The rest is...well you've seen the movies. You know what a car crash looks like. Veers to the left, hits a couple of rocks and stops dead. No explosion, which is good at least since I'm sick and tired of Bay's shit. Hell, even he was glad when he retired.

I got Benji to park the truck and hit the emergency lights on the dash. I stepped out and gave him the AR-15 after reloading. "You know how to use one of these?"

"Yeah. OASIS has a weapon's certification program you know."

"And you actually got one? You live in California. I thought they have a ban on all non-civilian firearms." (Code for everything that isn't a six-shooter or wood-body rifle.)

"Tell that to the Mafias, the Red Clans and looters."

"Noted." I gave him the rifle and took with me the M9 I had stashed away. "Stay here. Fight only if you have to. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I mean it. Your mom will kill me if she finds out I got you in a firefight IRL. It's one thing to zero out someone in the OASIS, but out here if you zero ou-"

"I get it Old Man. I'll wait here."

"O-okay…"

I guess like father like son. I use to be the one complaining that my Old Man talked too much even in time-sensitive situations. Now I'm getting complaints from my own kid about the same thing. Man does life like throwing you hard ones.

The truck was all mangled up from the crash. The front tires had been ripped from their axles, the grill was unidentifiable and the engine looked like it was damaged beyond repair. I kept a hand on the M9 while opening the driver's door. The guy was bleeding his brains out but at least his lungs were still working. I pulled him out of the truck and laid the bastard on the ground. I checked the car for any handcuffs and restrained him to a bush. I wasn't gonna take too many risks. I then went to the other seat and pulled the other guy from the truck. I thought he was unconscious but he guy flipped trying to put his hand on my throat. Of course, getting in a car crash doesn't do you any favors in a fight. He was pretty easy to incapacitate and get a gun on his head.

"Alright asshole. You got thirty seconds to tell me who the fuck you guys are and how many."

Maybe it was just me, but the guy wasn't what I expected. Normally these mercenary types are buffed out and carrying loads of equipment. But this guy was all minimalist, and if anything he looked like any other teenager nowadays. He was tall but scrawny. He wore cracked glasses and a helmet. Should've been wearing a mask but I guess he was probably asthmatic or something. And he had that face that told me he was scared shitless. I checked his ear for a second and noticed a small electronic device on him. They were indentured workers.

"Please...just kill me...I don't wanna go back…"

The radio picked up to check in on these guys. "Charlie team. We're gonna have to ditch the chase. The damage to our trucks is irrepairable. Any updates on the chase? Over."

Holy shit these guys are practically kids. I picked up the walkie talkie on him and spoke into it. "All stations this is Target. Charlie team won't be able to complete the mission."

"What?! W-Who is this?!"

"Just a guy that made a deal with the Devil." I fired a few shots around the kid and cut the outgoing audio. I had shot his earpiece off and the poor bastard was crying his balls off.

"What the fuck! No!"

"I got a message for you and Sorrento. He wanted Torres the Murderer, then he's got it. Send me every poor slop you want. I'll make a necklace out of their nuts and mail them to you express class. Maybe you can wear them for me on our next date…" I threw the radio out and pulled the kid up by his collar. "Alright kid. Get a first aid kit and wipe the blood off your neck."

"What?"

"You heard me. And your buddy's a little out of it. Think you can help me getting him the truck?"

"Uh...s-sure."

I helped him up and got to the driver I cuffed. We had to keep from talking or else they'll know I'm a liar by checking the earpiece. But there's a way to disable it. Just putting a magnet behind it will get the thing to shut down. A little trick I learned from the boys in the Perseverance Breakout.

Now, imagine two guys about 175 lbs carrying a 245 lbs driver. Not exactly the lightest load and he didn't fit too well having to share the space with the Old Man. Freaked out the kid when he saw the box. I mean, wanna see a dead body? Here you go. Why are you so scared?

It wasn't long until we were back on the road. The unconscious guy, Harrison Morse, laid right next to the Old Man taking a nap. His friend, Marcus Penn, the guy whose ear I shot had a piece of had a rag on the side of his head. Benji was taking the wheel, and I was sitting in the back to keep them from doing anything stupid.

"So wait. You two lived together and shared clues for the Hunt?"

"Yeah. Kid was like a son...well, second son. Hey Benji, you don't mind having and older brother do you?"

"Trying to drive over here."

"And you're doing a great job. I remember when I first drove. The old man right here was busting my balls the whole time. Don't go over the speed limit. Watch out for that bump. Slow down, red light. Of course...this was back before the OASIS solved everything else...you know how to do stick?"

"Pretty much."

"All the best cars in the OASIS are manual."

"Yeah...you know, my first car's actually a 1967 Ford Mustang."

"No way!"

"For reals?"

"No joke. The thing was black, vinyl interior, restored with aftermarket parts...honestly it's the greatest present I've ever gotten."

"Who gave it to you?"

I pointed to the box. "Who do you think, Santa Claus? Funny story, I saw it at the dealer and thought it was the most beautiful car out there. And I've been saving up my coin for about two years praying to God it was still there. Like actually kneeling on the side of my bed asking God to make sure no one buys it. I don't know if God heard it for reals but I'm guessing the old man heard it. Or just made a really lucky guess. I never told him. Once I did turn 18, guy just takes me to the mechanic's house to do repairs. Bullshit. Motherfucker knew the mechanic and got a deal on the car. I was bawling my eyes out like it was the last Christmas of my life. All he said was to just save up my cash for something that was really worth it…"

"Did you?"

"Nah. Spend a chunk of it on new OASIS gear the day it came out. Old man called me an ungrateful piece of shit...well, not really since mom was there. So I took a job at a pizzeria doing deliveries and ubered for a while. But Sorrento probably told you guys all that. What's your guy's story?"

"Well, Morse and I met up when we were both like ten at school. Both our parents were shooting up heroin and shit so we were practically on our own. Once we were in high school we ran away to an old warehouse and shared it with some homeless guys. But the place was raided by IOI's debt collectors so we were told to work for them. We were then offered the a chance to get out of the whole thing and all we had to do was...well, kill or capture you. Basically take you in for the attempted murder of "

"Right...can't have the 'Parzival Murderer' running loose around Mexico. Except...it's the guy who hired you guys that tried to kill Parzival."

"Yeah, we had that feeling. But hey, as long as we're out of the Cube Farm."

"I hear ya…of course, the bastard was a pathological liar for a long ass time."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say I know what brand and color of underwear he uses… Black Kleins."

"Woah woah woah Old Man. You mean to tell me you and Sorreno use to be friends?"

"We were roommates. Studies similar courses, interned at Gregarious...we just took different paths. He worked for IOI, while I went to work on a DARPA project."

"No way."

"So this whole time...Jesus Christ."

"Yeah...let's just say this whole war started a while back…"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Alright, gather 'round kids. Get some s'mores, some popcorn, a bag of chips, whatever. Uncle Tom's gonna tell you a story. Now, before I do, I should tell you there's some messed up shit in it. We're talking borderline NC-17 so if you guys get squeamish don't say I didn't warn you. So, a long time ago, in an Ohio State dorm…

Sorrento and I were rooming together for about two years. I had transferred over from community as a Programming major. We didn't really think about each other that much. It wasn't until I answered an ad for an internship at an experimental gaming company. I had no idea I was gonna be working for Gregarious Simulation Systems. And I had no idea I was gonna be working with Sorrento on a lot of projects. Turns out the guy had been working there a long time, pretty much my senior. I was put in charge of a few of the digital buildings and a proper algorithm for procedural generation. Pretty much I'm building entire cities and neighborhoods, districts and plazas, rebuilding cities from different universes. The MCU New York, DC's Metropolis and Gotham, London 1886, Neo Tokyo, Hong Kong. Meanwhile Sorrento wrote the AI for all the NPCs and characters. New York was full of commuters, pigeons and rats. Neo Tokyo was full of biker gangs and drug dealers. Gotham had criminals popping up left and right every night. Basically half the cities in the OASIS were established by us. Of course, we had to talk with each other whenever we had to make things like a fighting event or a quest. We eventually were asked to take part in the student exchange program by studying in Japan. There I met Kei Fujiwara. He was just starting to work in music production and was trying to get into Vocaloid. He even took me to a concert when he said Crypton Future Media was going to showcase his song. I couldn't get into it because the voices were so squeaky, but it was impressive how something so lifelike could come from a computer-synthesized program.

Once I got back to the US, I started to work a bit better. Well, I, Sorrento and Laila. And before you ask, no, we've never had a three way. Laila's pretty conservative anyways. But we did share a hoe one time. And to go on record, I highly doubt he could have any kids given his...caliber. Anyways, if there's one thing we bonded over, it's taking potshots at Halliday. Hey, if you don't shit-talk on your boss at least once you're not human. Most of the time it's about the idea of maybe, just maybe, overtaking him and actually making something bigger and better than the OASIS. Why restrict ourselves to a couple of pieces of pop culture when we can reinvent it. We could build an entire world from scratch, recreate the world and overtake Halliday at his own game. I beat him once already why not do it a second time. Laila wanted in on the idea too as well as other interns. She'd do the story, he'd do the programming and I'd do the graphics. Sure, we would have to copy a few things like RMTs and IRL purchasing to even hold up a candle to the OASIS, but if Treyarch can kill the trend setters and become the trend standards why can't we. But before we could even make a name for it, well...I threw it all away.

The US Army was recruiting people at our campus and you can tell they were looking for someone to recruit. It's like all they saw were engineers, officers and reservists that need to be ordered around. Me? I've been interested for a while. Like I said, _Call of Duty, Battlefield_ , it's all interactive propaganda. And yeah, I fell for it. It wasn't the story that drew me in though, it was the gameplay. I thought that maybe if I was good at it in game, maybe I could become a soldier in real life. So on graduation day, getting out of Ohio State with my BS on Computer Graphics and Programming, I told everyone that I was enlisting in the US Army:

Laila: "Are you insane? They'll stick you in the Middle East as soon as you're done with basic!"

Mom: "If it's what you think is best for you, then I'll pray for your safe return."

Sis: "Kick some ass out there big bro!"

Majority of Professors: "Not exactly the best way to pay for your tuition. Another one falls into the jaws of the system"

That's just those guys though. They didn't have much to say.

Dad: He of course had an entire sermon to say about it. On one half, he started talking about how if I was doing it for money he could just loan it for me, only to double back and say that working for the government is the best thing to do since they give you so many benefits. So really, I have no idea if he was okay with me joining the military or not.

Sorrento: Nolan was flipping his shit. He wanted to make this project a reality. And in his opinion I was an important key in all of this. He said I could make things look good and shit. Like, I was the only computer graphics guy out there. But to be honest, I've seen others in my class do better than me. I can't be the best at it. It might actually be that I'm the one guy he trusted with the idea, since we're both planning to kill the OASIS.

Halliday: It happened a while after graduation. Halliday noticed I was stacking up my stuff in a box and asked why I was leaving. He then took me to his office to talk about new ideas and one thing that was concerning him. Turns out I wasn't the only one getting attention from the US Army…

The US Department of Defense were apparently funding Gregarious Simulation Systems in exchange for creating a realistic military combat simulator. We're talking sea, air and land. In other words, they want us to fight the wars before they even happen. And a fully interactive simulator that lets you fight multiple battles to figure out the best course of action is exactly what they wanted. And Halliday was the one who could provide. Of course, Morrow tried to ask them nicely to fuck off and let capitalism do capitalism. But, eventually they compromised by giving them the physics engine and a standalone rendition of modern day Earth. He called it Earth_WW3, because it was meant to prepare the troops for the Third World War. Ironic given how it ended up playing out.

The man had mixed emotions about helping out the US military. One one hand, it would be great PR for the OASIS. Who wouldn't like a 'We support the Troops' label on your product. Not to mention the money. But on the other hand, we know this can backfire gloriously. Halliday's the type of guy that's watched _WarGames_ for the 1354th time in his life. And if there's one thing that movie, and any other movie has taught us, is that any time the US tries out new technology it has the potential to backfire horrifically. It also means the rest of the world probably has the same idea. At least it wasn't gonna have a gruesome outcome like all the other poor saps trying to imitate Tony Stark's suit in the trainwreck of a video at the congressional hearing from _Iron Man 2_. More on that later.

Anyhow, he was essentially asking me to be the unofficial godfather of Earth_WW3. He gave me an administrator's username and password so I could basically manage the content of the standalone and pretty much screw around with it. Again, more on that later.

So next thing I knew I was in a US Army barracks in Fort Jackson being yelled out by some bulldog hoping I'd crack. Staff Sergeant 'Bitch' Michaels, I've been yelled at by my own father and told much worse shit than what you're telling me. Not to mention been bullied at school from Day 1. Do your worst asshole, I fucking dare you. Okay I didn't actually say that to his face but that was the overall attitude I had. But really all I did was follow Forrest Gump's words and made my bed real neat, stand straight, and end my sentences with "Yes, Staff Sergeant!" It wasn't really that hard. I mean, I was pretty obese in some areas but you slim down after a couple of weeks. Plus, it's all really just mental strength. Seriously I've seen guys drop because they couldn't take the mental abuse and they were twice my size.

It wasn't long until I finished basic that I was asked to be part of the Army's Experimental Communications Operator Program. It's basically code for hacking, virus planting and wiretapping. I was interested in this stuff after Halliday gave me the codes to the simulation. I didn't know if I'd ever get to see it but I was damn well ready just in case. Plus the Army was really interested in having a couple of Blackhats available on the front lines. It's convenient to have a guy who knows how to use a knife, a gun and a keyboard.

And after that was done, I went into Ranger school. Staff Sergeant Michaels gave me the recommendation given that I managed to survive his chicken shit. I dunno, I was just trying to survive. So pretty much my training consisted of parachuting, mountain climbing, swamp wadding, you know the typical crap that they put you through in Fort Benning. And after that, I took Officer Training School, since I did have a four year and no way I was gonna take orders from a Sergeant. If anything I'm gonna be the one calling the shots. I ended up being the ninth best in the graduating class. Seriously, what the hell?! I should've been nowhere near the top.

Anyhow, this was when I met Hamilton, the gay adopted Chinese guy. No joke. We were pretty close but not in that way. Remember, gays don't go for every piece of sausage they see. Turns out the guy was adopted by a family in Georgia, which was great for him since that means he can visit his family a lot faster than most guys. Hell, I ended up visiting his family because mine was back in California. They called me and of course were thankful that I was still alive. I know I was too. As for Hamilton's family...they thought I was his boyfriend. Again, just because one guy is gay, doesn't suddenly mean that the two are gonna...honestly I have no idea how gays do it. I do know how straight people do it since, you know, that one time with Sorrento. But I did end up getting with a chick he introduced me to. You know, Clarice. And that Benji is how I met your mother...oh Neil Patrick Harris, you left us too soon. Seriously, I don't know if she was just that much of a virgin or just desperate. But yeah, she got me. I'm just glad her parents didn't freak out or anything. If anything it sounded like they were glad I fucked their daughter. Guess it helps to be a US Army Ranger.

But I did end up going back to California for a short visit with my folks, and heard that mom and dad were finally gonna apply for citizenship, given how I was now in the military and could vouch for them. Which was great. Pretty much meant that they could go back to Mexico to visit family and come back to the US without any repercussions. And it was this that let us travel freely, finally without any hassle or fear of repatriation. And with the OASIS declaring a partnership with FIFA, they were able to transmit the United 2026 via what they call the Stadium Experience. Using select seating and 360 video recording, they're able to drop you into the Stadium to let you enjoy the entire World Cup from start to finish. It was hard to explain to my Old Man but after he got the hang of it he genuinely enjoyed it. It was the game part that he couldn't get into. I guess it's just how he is.

I was then sent into action by 2026 and was tossed right into the soup of Afghanistan. Years of instability, conflict and pretty much everyone fucking it up have made a ton of people lose hope on any possibility of real peace. But we were getting close. The way the US military thought of it was like trying to play whack-a-mole. For me, it was like trying to kill a hydra hiding as a whack-a-mole booth. If you don't burn the stumps after cutting the heads off, two more will pop up. And we had our stage set in the vast desert of the Middle East.

Now, I know you're asking, "Wait a sec, didn't the US pull out a while ago?" And you'd be right. Glad someone knows their history. But we didn't account to the possibility that the Jihadists that were part of Al-Qaeda that later became ISIS will then become the New Soldiers of Mohammed in Afghanistan (NSMA...we're running out of acronyms for these assholes so we just call them Newmies.) Only difference is that unlike Daddy and Grandpy who fought in the real world, the Newmies did most of their dirty work in cyberspace. That's not to say they don't know how to use a gun, but why send a bunch of Jihadists to blow themselves up at a building an ocean away and possibly fail when you can just do it using your laptop? They also did crazier stuff like hacking into bank accounts, leaking valuable information from government servers, even public misinformation to the US. In other words, they turned the Middle East wars into a cyberwar.

Our objective is the same as before. There's a highway known as the Ring Road which not only connects all the major cities, but makes access to rural areas and villages a lot easier and effective. For the Newmies, they just need to make sure we can't use it by setting up IEDs, locking down villages to make outposts, hijacking towers to control information flow. So where do we start? Well, let's try with the major cities taking the brunt of the attacks: Mazari Sharif, Herat, Kanhadar and Kabul. Our goal was simple: head into the villages and operate with local Afghan forces to evict the NSMA. Simple, right? Well, not quite.

Most of the Rangers at the time didn't think of OASIS diving as a legitimate hobby. They just saw it as something YouTube gamers and geeks would get heavily invested in. Hamilton and I were really the only guys within our squads playing it. We found other guys within the base we were in and got together as a clan but it wasn't any bigger than five guys. What else was there for soldiers to do? Masturbate, go on social media, inspect equipment, masturbate, trade care package contents, masturbate, inspecting and securing sugar reports, did I forget masturbate?

Our first taste of action was during a patrol in Herat. Nothing out of the usual. Just a couple of guys wearing camouflage with only one of them wearing the Afghan uniform. It was some bastard named Saqqaf. But we ended up calling him Spock, mainly because he has seen Star Trek to the point that he started playing three-dimensional chess. I had to play with a rule page before I could even come close to beating him. Anyways, one minute we're just walking about, maybe thinking we're gonna get some falafel once we're off-duty. Then BOOM! IED! SHOCK AND AWE! NEWMIES ATTACKING FROM ALL CORNERS!

Once we actually went into action though, they have to adapt faster than us. The noise, the chaos, the sudden fear of dying, the adrenaline. For me and Hamilton,(and I think Spock) that's a different story. Since we've been using guns in the OASIS, and with the whole You're-sent-to-zero-if-you're-killed, we got a reason to treat it like the real world. Sure, we weren't rocket boosting but we did have the ARC goggles. We had our own little playbook, going by obstacles, heading to the top of buildings and pretty much kill anything the goggles detect has a gun. When the report came in that we were responsible for more than 10 casualties each, they had to find out what we did differently. When they found out we were playing the OASIS for a long time, they as hell tried to push it on everyone else. And the Army wasn't alone in that idea.

Later on we were tasked with going into a local village after hearing reports of small arms caches being hidden. We brought with us a couple of dogs and just let them out loose to look for them. Of course, we confronted more Newmies guarding the specific hut the village. They were tougher than the regulars and were able to shoot down some of the scouting drones. But they fell down all the same. It was the loot we found that was crazy. Normally we'd find a whole slew of assault rifles, IEDs, and whatnot but they had a hidden room full of computers and OASIS gear. They were probably using it as training too. But we found out there was more once we did unlock the sets. We figured out what was fueling their entire war machine.

Once I left GSS, they made a currency system to get some more revenue and create a fun little economy for the players. Little did they know that Newmies used this system to get money for their guns, food, shelter and governmental bribes. Technically you couldn't transfer in-game currency to real money. Basically you had to buy it or earn it by playing the game. But people are willing to pay real money to exchange it for in-game currency since you could do a lot with it in the OASIS. NSWA had apparently made a clan to make their cash, communicate with other cells, even cause a little online terror. We found plans to purchase the Cataclyst and collect all the loot the avatars dropped (seriously Halliday, you're a fucked up asshole).

When I told this to the Brass, they thought I was just some guy playing too many video games. Really fuckers? What gave it away? The former GSS Internship? The OASIS gear in my personal stuff? The fact that I can headshot ten sand monkeys? (apologies to any Middle Easterners reading this) So instead I went with the second best choice: Outsource the problem to other gamers. I got in contact with Sorrento to try to help me out since he was still in GSS kissing up to Halliday and Morrow. The guy was still pissed off at me, but knew that if we had any chance of taking down NSMA it would be using the OASIS.

So he and I started an underground campaign to take down all the clans affiliated with NSMA. He'd take care of the in-game front by tracking when and where the players are, listening in on their plans, etc. We even started making propaganda on forums with the gamertags I found. We called it the Newmie Blacklist. Stalk 'em. Hunt 'em. Save the world. And any moment someone hacked their rigs and mentioned a location, Sorrento would sent it to a journalist with brass connections. Apparently they will listen to a story weaver but not their own soldiers.

So we were given a capture order for some guy nicknamed Siad Alnasr, "The Eagle Hunter". He's the guy who makes the money for NSMA. It was a simple job. Breach a guy's home with family and all and snatch him up in a carpet burrito. Well, we had no idea his family was still inside with him. We went in and had the family cornered, just a man with his wife and a 14 year old boy. We of course took the guy but I insisted we also take the boy. Because? Well guess what happened to be in his person. A pair of haptic gloves and headset. Do you know what it takes for a 2nd Lieutenant to convince a Major to take the kid? And fuck it. Take the mother too. She's a sitting duck out in the open.

And my hunch was right. The father didn't know squat about the OASIS, kinda like my old man. But the canary sang and we got what we needed: a connection to the first Red Clan and a way to get them to fight on our own terms. Spock, Ham and I were really the only experts in our team so we were tasked with going covert and working with the family to draw out the Newmies from their holes. But that's what we told the Brass. In the OASIS, me, Spock, Hamilton, Sorrento, and a whole army of players to harass the Newmie clans. That's just phase one. Phase two was sent out by Sorrento himself. With the help of Halliday, we designed a special type of item for these assholes meant to pretty much make their gear useless, and track their last known location. Since they still needed an address to receive checks and stuff, the implanted viruses would pretty much look into their files for it. Then phase three kicks in. Once we have a solid location for them, we send in raid teams to take down each location, with the lead Nu'maan el-Koroma getting the honor of execution by SEAL Team Six.

At first it seems like we were finally gonna get rid of the these assholes and we were hopefully gonna go home. I knew I finally wanted to just head back home, kick back, dive into the OASIS and maybe give Benji a couple of pointers from an old pro and GSS architect. But life doesn't like to go the way I want it to sometimes. After a couple of weeks of providing ground support to some of the special ops units, we were asked to volunteer for patrols again, for the last Goddamn time. It was me, Spock, Ham and a few other soldiers whose names I forget. There was also Pvt Zandor, an Army chick that grew tired not of the jock's shit, but my shit and Ham's. Jocks she could deal with since they could get into some serious trouble with sexual harassment. But Ham and I were a kiss away from being a nerdy gay couple. She was one of those Army-is-Life type Tomboys that is constantly cleaning her rifle like she was imitating male masturbation. Anytime she caught me slacking off or just being un-officerlike she'd give us lip. Thing is, I've caught her in numerous situations where she's actually initiated the confrontation, like that time she beat up a guy because he turned his head towards her. The guy was focusing on the LAV behind her when she was walking on base. Jesus fuck! I probably should've reported her ass to my superiors but I was hoping showing only a little bit of mercy would maybe humble her...I was wrong.

There was also some guy that was supposedly from the CIA. Name was Farnsworth. He wanted to talk to me about maybe getting me into some crazier bullshit he had planned. If everything went well, I'd be discharged from the Army and not do the full eight years. Anyhow, before we left, Spock and I had one more match of three dimensional chess. We explained the basic rules to Farnsworth to make sure he was on board as we moved pieces. In a way, it's kinda like modern warfare. You could argue that one dimension of the board represents the physical world, soldiers, tanks, ships, aircraft. Another could be cyberspace, wiretaps, logic bombs, hacks. And then the third is the civilian public, reserves, resources, corporate and government backing. And finally the politicians, sitting in their own separate dimension seemingly unaffected by the wars on other dimensions. But they are all connected, and one action can affect and is affected by other. Anyways this was the one time I actually beat that bastard. He was one step away from winning but I was able to cut off his moves while setting up my own strategy. I don't know what was more surprising for Farnsworth, that an Afghan soldier was a fan of Star Trek, or that 3D chess was actually playable.

During the patrol in a bazaar, we were approached by an old man in his 40s tugging a goat with him. Turns out the guy wanted to give us his wife...and by wife, we mean goat. Yeah, I think the joke died with the rest of the Newmies. Anyways, we tried to tell him we couldn't take the goat, mostly because we had no clue as to what to do with it. I mean, it's a farm animal given to a bunch of citykids. But Spock said he'd take it in. But then that happened.

The Newmies had bought enough material to make a final dirty bomb, and well, we were the final targets. They had it hidden inside of a plastic wrapped PC tower and had it put in the bazaar. From what I was told the guy didn't check to see what was in it either because he was afraid, or was in on it. The tower was then bought by one of the the Newmies, dropped the tower right in front of us, and boom...we were on the news.

I think I don't need to tell you how fucked up a dirty bomb is. The concussive blast is the first thing to probably kill you. If you're the unlucky bastard to survive, then you have to deal with the radioactive isotopes that can come out of it. I was quick to put on my mask and cover my skin. We had to evacuate as many people as we could from the area and get them to a secure location for decontamination. Whatever was in that bomb was already making a few people throw up. The goat was pretty much undercooked Mediterranean takeout, and so was the old guy. A few kids were sick, women, men, and animals. And well, even Spock got hit real hard. The guy's gas mask wasn't working too well and his lungs were contaminated making him puke hard. I couldn't really do anything for him other than get him an O2 tank and flush his skin with a hose. We kept on working on saving some of the other civilians, with some of them being diagnosed with cancer, others just being wheeled out for identification and surrender. And on the third day, the fucker asked me to bring his chess set. And what does he fucking tell me? To hold on to it until Allah let's us see each other again. He moves one pawn and that's about it...one, fucking pawn.

I'm not gonna say I cried my eyes out that moment. It's this weird thing I have where I can actually hide my crying and let it out when the coast is clear. Rule of High School: Never let anyone see you cry. It's a sign that they got to you. The same applies in the Army. You want to find a nice corner or go out into the wild. OASIS headgear is a good alternative too. Now they tell you that grief works like this: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. Bullshit. It depends on the personality, intensity, trauma type, and cause of trauma. First you gather up all your emotions, knowledge, memories, then just find the time and place to let it all blow out. Some people do it in one massive explosion, some in small bursts like a box of Pop-its. Once it's all out, you just have to move on, be grateful for the experience and learn from it. This was the bottling.

The release let's say was a bit more unsatisfying. I was pissed off of course. Nu'maan el-Koroma: I wanted that fucker dead. I wanted that fucker to suffer real bad. Get a couple of holes blown in him. Maybe get a few scarabs shoved up his ass before we make him swim with Bin Laden. I asked the guys in the SEAL Team if they'd let me in on the operation. They managed to bullshit me in with the excuse that I as one of the few people that can hack OASIS gear should go just in case. A few days later, we were given orders to withdraw.

A few weeks after the Dirty Bomb, some kid reported a collapsed man in the alley by a shwarma joint in Baghdad. The guy had been starved out, covered in cancerous moles and sent on the slow cruise down the river Styx. This, is what happened to Nu'maan el-Koroma. The man that once posed a threat to the Western world, left to rot in an alley with nothing but a pair of OASIS goggles, haptic gloves, and five bucks in cash. The kid now was living off the reward money given to him by the FBI. I always asked what happened to that money if the CIA or other government entity ends up finding someone on their own.

Once back stateside in 2029, I was kinda lost. I mean, back in the Middle East I saw guys I partnered up with, honest working people, kids trying to just go to school, killed right in front of me. All of that happened thousands of miles away, on the other side of the world while my family bickers amongst themselves. My kid is left to just go learn about the world through the eyes of his mother, his grandparents, and his young avatar. He had no idea of all the shit I had to do to ensure he never sees Hell. And holy fuck I owe my dad an apology for all the times I opened my big fat mouth.

I tried to move on by getting me, my dad and Benji into some grandfather/father/son bonding. Basically it was just having him around while me and the old man did something like mow the lawn, fishing or working on the old Mustang. I somehow managed to do most of the stuff without dad yelling. Mostly because I was making much fewer mistakes and Benji could beat him in a cry battle. Mom and Clarice bitched each other, calling one an old hag and the other a puta(Spanish for whore). But the Torres boys? They were enjoying themselves while they could. Kicking soccer balls, learning new languages, fixing shit, wrecking shit, making and changing shit. (Seriously Benji, you shit so bad that I could've made a WMD with it. And I kinda did.)

But of course, Farnsworth asked me to go back to and work for DARPA. They wanted me to help train a Delta team to use new equipment. And of course, I'd lead as a 1st Lieutenant. I had a bad feeling about it but all I cared about was heading back to Benji, Clarice, mom, dad and little sis…

Well, I'm fucking tired. I'll tell you guys the rest later. Probably already know about it anyways. Benji, wake me up when we reach Guadalajara. Pop's is gonna take a nap.


End file.
